


My Hero

by badluckvixen13, Inkzy



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------, ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------, Abuser!Marcus, Affection, After Ending, Bit of humour, But Not Much, Complete, Court Case, Cute, DO NOT READ IF THIS TRIGGERS YOU, Depression, Domestic Case, Domestic Violence, Enemies to Friends, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Gay, Happy Ending, Healing, Healing!Draco, Helpless!Draco, Hurt/Comfort, Insensitive!Harry, Jealousy, Love, M/M, Magical Hearing, Mentions of Rape, Mentions of Violence, Mentions of controlling behaviours, Mouth-Rape, Near Death, Nice! Blaise, Nightmares, Non-Canon Relationship, Non-Graphic Rape, Not Beta Read, Past Abuse, Past Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Past Rape/Non-con, Past Torture, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Post-War, Rape/Non-con Elements, Re-learning magic, References to Depression, Romance, Short, Sincerity, Struggling!Draco, Sub!Draco, Suicidal Theme, Suicidal Thoughts, Supportive! Blaise, Therapy, Victim!Draco, Violence, asshole!harry, auror!Harry, connection, domestic abuse, m/m - Freeform, protective!harry, sad!Draco, vulnerable!Draco
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-11
Updated: 2017-10-13
Packaged: 2018-09-16 22:26:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 20
Words: 27,814
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9292127
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/badluckvixen13/pseuds/badluckvixen13, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Inkzy/pseuds/Inkzy
Summary: It had been three years of bittersweet love, tears and bruises and Draco Malfoy was at his breaking point with Marcus. He knew it was love, because he was always making excuses when it hurt, when he knew deep inside of his heart, that it was never going to stop, and the cycle was never going to end...Draco had been dating Marcus Flint for three years before their relationship began to crumble apart, their small 'fights' grew into something worse...One day, Auror Potter finds himself at number 13 Millbank Terrace where he finds a naked, bruised and beaten blonde in the remnants of his destroyed home.Harry lets Draco stay at Grimmauld Place with him to heal while they fight for Flint to get locked away for good. A romance blossoms between them on their journey to a happier life...Check out my other works at: http://archiveofourown.org/users/Inkzy/worksCheck out Badluckvixen13's works at: http://archiveofourown.org/users/alteringviews/pseuds/badluckvixen13





	1. A Year Ago

**Author's Note:**

> I'm trying something new here, I'm not that much of a good writer and starting a fic like this is really going out of my comfort zone but I had the idea and I like a good challenge. Don't be afraid to leave any criticism/comments - it will only bother me if you are very hostile/rude for no reason. I'm a hobbyist who is writing this for my own enjoyment, and for the enjoyment of others. I know that to start off it won't wow you, but I will constantly go back to improve and correct my mistakes. This is a collaboration with Badluckvixen13, who has been co-authoring with me from about chapter 8 onwards.
> 
> Leave kudos and comments and enjoy! <3  
> \---------------------------------------
> 
> Disclaimer: This is purely fanfiction, I am not making any profit from this, the only thing I own is the plot and ideas.
> 
> IMPORTANT: IF ANY OF THE TAGS TRIGGER YOU, PLEASE DO NOT READ - I'D LIKE FOR EVERYONE TO FEEL SAFE AND COMFORTABLE READING THIS - IF YOU ARE UNDER THE AGE OF 16, VIEWER DISCRETION IS ADVISED.  
> This fic honestly isn't that explicit, but I know how younger audiences can feel affected when reading about these kinds of topics.  
> \-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
> 
> Check out my other works at: http://archiveofourown.org/users/Inkzy/works
> 
> Check out Badluckvixen13's works at: http://archiveofourown.org/users/alteringviews/pseuds/badluckvixen13
> 
> ~Inkzy~

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where it all started...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Updated since 06/06/17*

 

__

_ It was only a year ago… Grey eyes flashed shut. _

“Draco, honey. I’m home.” A voice drawled as the front door slammed.

 

_ Marcus had been home early unlike usual, Draco couldn’t expect him back from the pub stinking like beer at that time. God he was so stupid, he should have thought about the possibility, no wonder nobody loved him... A flood of panic had came over him, washing over his brain and lungs. He wasn't ready yet, he was still preparing himself. _

 

_ A year ago and he was trapped like an animal, in the clutches of a monster… He could remember the feeling clear as day and crisp as new bedsheets. Everything was alive then, the hair on his skin, his mind, his eyes and ears. Everything was in tune, like he was a creature of prey, in escape of the hunter within his home. _

All common sense just seemed to leave him as strained and sensitive ears hounded the closeness and proximity of heavy footsteps and breathing. If things weren’t as Marcus pleased, he’d be getting a pounding tonight, and his neighbours would have to endure more sounds of muffled screaming. 

_ Dinner ready? Check. _

_ Table set? Check. _

_ House clean? Check. _

_ Laundry done? Check. _

Draco hastily searched around his flat, searching for anything he had left out, the TV was on, volume at twenty-three – just the way Marcus liked it – the curtains drawn, three beers and a pack of pork scratchings were left on the coffee table for Marcus to consume later in the evening, like every other day.

_ Phew okay. _

_ Marcus was a fussy lover, anything that he wanted he would get, Draco would make sure of that. Any times that things would not go the way he wanted, Draco’d be the bearer of the consequences. He struggled to think of how he had gotten here, and how his once lovely open home had turned into a place that he’d like to burn to the ground and send the walls up in flames. His home had stopped being open a long time ago. Nobody visited, nobody looked at it, nobody questioned. It was like watching the world from a glass bowl. _

Draco ran to the porch where Marcus was stood expectantly, he looked irritated. His eyes were blown and hard, he had no clue what he had been doing in the last few hours but Draco didn’t even want to know. The sickening aroma of alcohol filled his nostrils. There was nothing that Draco hated more than alcohol, it made Marcus evil towards him, like a concoction that turned him from an angel to the devil himself. He wondered what apology he’d get tomorrow morning...

“Dragon, you know I don’t like it when you make me wait. I’ve been stood here for almost ten minutes already.”

Draco’s heart leapt.  _ Had it been that much time? God he was so, so stupid, this was his fault... _

_ He had been used to this constant fear… _

 

Deep down he knew it had only taken him a few seconds to get to him but he wasn’t about to say so. Any cheek towards Marcus usually earned him a slap which wasn’t as bad as he was used to but it still wasn’t good. Whatever the master says goes, that’s the rules that everybody should live by, unless you’re not a good slave.

_ Living life in hell… _

“Sorry babe – I was busy.” Draco murmured hesitantly, turning to pull Marcus out of his coat and hang it up. He didn’t understand why he had to do this for him, taking one’s coat off is a pretty simple thing that should be automatic, nobody should make anybody do it for them. It had become a kind of routine for them, to instantly remind Draco of his place as soon as Marcus came back to their home.

 

Draco knelt to the floor to untie his boyfriend’s laces. He fumbled for a few seconds, his fingers were shaking from nerves. He was so engrossed from trying to undo them as quickly as possible, he almost didn’t hear the small clinking sound of a belt being unbuckled, and a zip being drawn.

_ Oh no... _

_ Eyes always wide, even in sleep... _

The blonde looked up, he was used to being in this position, face to face with Marcus’ crotch.

_ A sex monster… _

“Are you hungry, sweetface?”

The question surprised Draco. He was never usually asked if he wanted food.

“You must be pretty hungry and tired from all of the work you’ve been doing today for me. My sweet angel, always on your hands and knees.” Marcus cooed, it made the blonde internally cringe. 

“N-no. I’m not hungry, I had some lunch a few hours ag-“

“Well that’s too bad, isn’t it, darling? Because you are not moving from that spot until you get that pretty mouth of yours on my cock.”

Draco didn’t mind pleasing his lover, in fact he loved it, and he loved the praise he got from it, he just didn’t happen to want a cock in his mouth twenty times a day… He had already blew Marcus three times that morning and had let him fuck him. He didn’t want to be cheeky though so he tried his best not to beg.

 

 

 

 

“Marcus,” Draco rushed, “Please, come on, I’ve made you your dinner, it will get cold if you don’t-“

But Marcus wasn’t listening, he never listened, he had already pulled his half-hard cock from his jeans and thrust it into Draco’s mouth, immediately choking the blonde. The feeling was familiar of course, though he could never get used to the taste and how big it was inside of him. It was almost impossible to satisfy him when it was forced on him this way.

 

Tears started forming in his eyes as he felt Marcus’ hand grip his long hair and force his mouth along the large girth. Having troll ancestry had certainly affected Marcus’ anatomy in terms of size. It felt like the suffocation would never end, but Draco had learned better than to struggle and try and get away. Instead he sat as quietly as he could, inhaling desperately through his nose which offered minimal relief.

“Mmm, babe, you get me so hot. Look at what you do to me! You’re gagging on it.”

Marcus groaned and grunted, the sound of Draco’s mouth making wet, sloppy sounds. Personally Draco didn’t find this arousing or even sexy in the slightest, it seemed grotesque and degrading, and he had no idea why he couldn’t just fight. He counted to ten, screaming at himself in his brain to get up and fight for himself, but his body just never seemed to listen to him. He was weak.

After a short while, Marcus came loudly, shooting a large quantity of semen down the blonde’s throat. Draco had no choice but to swallow all of the liquid, the salty taste making him want to vomit. It left a nasty taste in his mouth as usual, but he couldn’t complain.  _ At least it was over now. _

Marcus gripped his ponytail and pulled Draco off of his knees to his feet, startling the blonde into yelping. He wasn’t ready to move yet, his feet were struggling to give him support.

“What’s that smell?”

“It’s dinner, I made shepherd's pie…”

_ Blankness. _

Marcus seemed to doze off into space for a moment, staring at the wall behind Draco’s head. He chuckled quietly to himself before beckoning the blonde with his finger. Draco hated when Marc had that deranged look in his eye, it made him look inhuman and it scared the living daylights out of him. He knew that look, that look meant pain would come, and he didn’t want to go anywhere near that monster.

If he moved towards Marcus, he would get a beating, but if he tried to escape, then he would get a beating anyway, usually a worser one, so he normally just did what he was told.

Unfortunately, Draco’s feet weren’t working properly, and he was frozen to the spot, like a deer in headlights.  _ Move! Come on, just do it, or you’ll get worse! _

A huge hand gripped a swollen wrist and dragged him upstairs into the bedroom. The only noise being the thundering of angry steps throughout the house. A door slammed, and bone-chilling screams could be heard throughout the rest of the night…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Updated since 06/06/17*


	2. The Crime Scene

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> From Harry's POV. He's called to the crime scene at 13 Millbank Street

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, reader!!! :)  
> Welcome to another chapter, I hope you enjoy this one. The chapters will gradually become longer and longer as we go deeper into the plot. I'm very happy with the response I'm getting so far.
> 
> Leave kudos and comments as usual <3
> 
> ~Inkzy

 

Auror Potter sighed and checked his watch, he had an hour left on his shift and he had been called in for _another_ case. That would make seven homes he had to go out and visit in the past ten hours. Ridiculous, he’d have to speak to Kingsley about giving him a raise. It's not that he hated his job, it was just that it was too much for an already fractured mind to handle. He had been so sure about working as an auror at first, like it was what he was supposed to do. But now it just seemed stupid, like he was wasting his life when he could be doing something so much better.

 ' **13 Millbank Street, Domestic Violence case** ’ it flashed on the case board. Harry sighed and got up, tapping on the ‘in progress’ option button. He wasn’t used to the new wizarding technology but he was going to have to be if he wanted to keep up. He had had no idea that being an auror would be so lifeless and structured, being called on orders like a robot, and documenting tons of things that would never be looked at again. In his opinion, it should just be that someone calls for help, they get helped and then they all went home happy at the end of the day instead of staying back for three hours writing about how an old woman was noticing 'suspicious' behaviours in her community or about how next door's gnomes are tearing up the flower beds. It was all _stupid_.

Nonetheless, he pressed his finger against the flashing address and found himself standing outside of a generally average-looking house. There wasn’t anything out of the norm so Harry guessed that the 'crime' probably wasn't that serious. He sighed, wondering what he was going to find inside. Domestic violence cases in the past often varied in the range of severeness, very few of them actually being a time-worthy case. Harry would never undervalue a situation just based on his opinion, but he hated domestic violence cases because they all ended in the same way. Everyone gets questioned, the abuser gets put in Azkaban for a week or two and then they eventually get bailed out by their lovers that they abuse and it's a vicious cycle. Harry had never been in a event like that, but he never understood why anyone would ever stay with someone who hurt them.

Approaching the house warily, he walked down the footpath to the front door and knocked loudly, prepared for anything that may answer or anything he would find inside.

 

But there was only silence. No tell-tale footsteps of someone coming to answer.

Feeling frustrated, he knocked again, as loud as he could, but still, nobody came to the door.

 

Harry was exhausted, and there didn’t seem to be anyone home so he turned around to walk away before he heard a muffled yelp.

 

“Is anyone in there?” Harry shouted at the door, very impatient. He would be very annoyed if this was just a false alarm.

 

“-Lease!”

 

Harry furrowed his brow. Was that a person or just his imagination?

 

He took out his wand from his robe sleeve and opened the door with it. He wasn't about to stand around and wait for someone to come down, something seemed fishy.

When he walked inside, the scene that greeted him was not a pleasant one…

 

 

On the walls of what once was probably a decent-looking hall, there were bloody hand-prints smeared everywhere. The shoe and coat rack was tipped over and a photo which probably used to hang proudly on the wall, was in pieces on the ground. It was like a scene from a muggle horror movie. All was eerily silent and a weird smell that he couldn't place was in the air. Harry stepped further inside cautiously, treading carefully over the mess on the floor. He peeked into an open door frame, staring in disbelief at the dilapidated state of the room. Furnishings were broken to pieces, photographs smashed all over the ground, the door was pulled off its hinges. What was once a cosy looking sitting room was now a ram-shackled horror.

 

A crash sounded upstairs, making Harry freeze.

 

Someone was still in this house.

 

He ran up the staircase, wand out, a rush of adrenaline filling his veins. He was prepared to take on whatever situation he would walk in on. He didn't have time to figure out which room was what so he just pushed open the first door he saw. It was the bathroom which surprisingly was in a tidy state; there was no-one inside of it and nothing out of the ordinary, apart from the rug on the floor in disarray.

 

Not wanting to waste any more time, he rammed open the next door. He couldn't have even dreamt up what he saw in there.

It was a bedroom, just as trashed up as the rest of the house, and a naked man was tied up on all fours to the bedpost with a metal chain, attached to the black leather collar he was wearing. His hands were also bound, and his entire body was covered in all kinds of cuts and bruises and…semen? His right leg was bent in such an angle, Harry was sure it was broken, and his face was bruised and bloodied up so bad, he was physically unidentifiable.

His hair, which was also matted with blood, looked to be fair and irregularly cut. Harry had just assumed the man had a bad trim until he saw a two-foot ponytail strewn haphazardly on the floor. Had someone cut this man’s hair off?

Said victim was shivering and shaking like mad. The look of him was something Harry had not seen since the war.

He looked as though he were trying to say something, but he couldn’t get it past his lips. Harry nearly panicked, what was he supposed to do in this situation? He was certainly not expecting this at all.

“M-Marcus, p-plea-se, n-n-not him!”

 

Marcus? Who was-

 

And suddenly something heavy hit him on the head, and he stumbled back onto the floor where a giant of a man grinned down at him. Harry could barely keep his eyes open from the force of the blow, it had all happened so fast.

 

“Auror Potter, let’s just say I wasn’t expecting you. Don’t you have better things to do than rescue little cock-sucking brats?” Harry assumed this man was called Marcus. He didn't even know how to respond to what the man had just said, it was so ludicrously overwhelming, what had he just walked into?

 

“Shut it, dickhead.” Harry quickly came to his senses and flicked his wand at the man, sending strands of rope to wrestle him to the ground. He went over the regime that he had been taught: stop, look, retain and report, stop look retain and report.

 

Once the offender was securely tied up, he knocked him out with a stunner for safety and went over to the other man who was bound on the bed. He examined him swiftly, trying to think of how he could have ended up like this. Were him and Marcus lovers? That would explain the supposed sexual nature of the crime, but who would do something so extreme to their lover?

This man was particularly short and slimmer than most, but was quite lean and muscular. Harry immediately released him from his bonds, relieving him of the tight heavy chain, allowing him to lay down and relax himself on the filthy mattress. The sight of him was very mind-blowing for Harry and he wasn't sure what he should do first to get help. This is when having a partner came in handy, it was useful to have someone who had a clear head.  

 

“Are you alright, sir? Can you breathe properly? I’ll call a healer.”

The man didn't move, it didn't even seem like he was breathing properly. Harry conjured his patronus and sent it to the first person he could think of, his best friend Ron.

 

Not even a few minutes later, the rest of the investigatory team, a medical crew and Ron arrived, bursting though the door and ready to take action. Aurors grabbed the still unconscious and bound Marcus by the arms and apparated away, presumably to a holding cell. A small team of healers ran over to the bed and began checking Draco's vitals before apparating away to St Mungo's. 

For the first time in the past twenty minutes, Harry breathed, glad that everything was in control. Already, every nook and cranny of the house was being photographed to be collected as evidence.

 

“Well he’s going to have a nice surprise when he wakes up.” Ron says jokingly as he walks over to Harry, having just finished a conversation with another auror.

 “Yeah,” Harry says distractedly, “Hey, do you know who that man was?”

 

“Who? Oh you mean Marcus, he went to Hogwarts with us, remember? Was the Slytherin Quidditch Captain.” Ron explains light-heartedly.

  
“No, I mean the- the victim.”

“No idea, mate.”

 

“Are you coming to St Mungo’s?”

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, reader!!! :)  
> Welcome to another chapter, I hope you enjoy this one. The chapters will gradually become longer and longer as we go deeper into the plot. I'm very happy with the response I'm getting so far.
> 
> Leave kudos and comments as usual <3
> 
> ~Inkzy


	3. St Mungo's

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry goes to visit the victim at the hospital...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, reader.  
> Welcome to another chapter. I hope you liked this one, though I fear it is poorly written.  
> Leave kudos and comments as usual. <3
> 
> ~ Inkzy

To say that St Mungo’s was busy that day would be an understatement. The waiting rooms were jam-packed with witches and wizards who were waiting impatiently to get treated. The hospital really needed more funding for an extension, it'd make everyone's lives easier. Harry hated being there, he hated hospitals in general and how they just reminded him of death; he couldn't get the image of all the bodies filling up the rooms after the war out of his head, there had been catastrophe, and the fate of so many people's lives being put into the limited hands of healers.

Harry brushed that thought off and carried on in the direction a receptionist had told them to go. They had difficulty finding an elevator that wasn’t full and had to wait ten minutes to get into one. Harry had no idea what so many people were doing there. Was there some kind of disease going around?

Ron pressed the button for the fourth floor and chatted quietly to his partner as he waited.

 

“Do you reckon that bloke’ll be alright?” Ron asked worriedly.

“Don’t think so,” Harry replied, “You should have seen him when I found him, I haven’t seen anyone so shaken up since the…since, you know. The house was an absolute tip, like how can somebody fuck somebody up so much. I wonder how long they were at it. When it said the case was a domestic, I was not expecting that at all. Do they live together?”

“I’m not sure, I think so. If not they seem to be very close, I saw the inspectors gathering up traces of semen from all around the house.”

 

“Yuck,” Harry grimaced.

Ron nodded in agreement.

“Who called in for us?” Harry questioned.

“We’re not sure, yet. Though I presume it was their neighbours.”

“Aren’t their neighbours muggle?”

“No idea, probably not.”

 

The elevator door opened and Harry and Ron stepped out into the corridor, staring down the vast tunnel.

 

“Ah, Mr Potter, Mr Weasley.” A female healer greeted him cheerily, coming from out of nowhere, “I’m Healer Grace. Pleasure to meet you.”

She shook their hands heartily. “Come this way, I presume you’re here for your case.”

They both nodded.

“Let’s go.” She said, walking down the hall; Harry and Ron followed her. Healer Grace was a tall woman with pale hair and brown eyes. She had a calm and posh atmosphere about her, like she was the type of woman who knew her stuff.

 

“Okay, so this man has suffered several injuries, his right leg had been broken, but we fixed that up with some skele-grow, same with his wrist as well which had been sprained, though we’re not sure how. We’ve fixed the bruising on his face, arms, wrists, anus and legs and a few of his cuts but I’m afraid that most of the cuts will scar. The huge gashes on his abdomen were induced with dark magic so I’m afraid the dittany didn’t work very well and we’ve had to stitch him up the muggle way, which will obviously take longer to heal. Whatever magic was used on him was definitely self-invented, by the caster I mean, and it is incredibly dark so he’ll have to stay here while we research upon it.”

“Does he really have to stay here? I mean is it really necessary?” Harry questioned.

“Well, not entirely, but considering what has happened to him, I think it will be safer for him to stay. We usually make rape victims stay for mind healing and investigatory purposes.”

“He was raped?!” Ron said incredulously.

 She nodded sadly.

“Is most often the case with the domestics. He has been raped several times from the looks of it, orally too. That’s why his rectum is so damaged. He is torn in several places on the inside, poor man. We can’t get him to talk to us at all, he just stares, whoever done this to him is, forgive my language, an absolute piece of shit.”

Harry and Ron nodded solemnly in agreement, unsure of what to say in a case like this.

“Do you- do you mind if we try to talk with him?” Harry asked.

 

She frowned. “Well, you can try, but I doubt you’ll get a response from him.”

She led them to a door further down the corridor and pushed it open, revealing a typical hospital room with a large bed against the wall.

In the bed was the man, except in a much better state than before.

 

Ron obviously wasn't prepared to talk to victims so he said, “I’ll wait outside, mate.” 

 

Harry was left alone, feeling uncomfortable in this man's presence. He was just staring at him, with an odd look on his face. That look seemed so recognizable. 

 He walked over to the bed hesitantly, not at all in his comfort zone. The man lying on it looked familiar, he had sharp features and blonde hair. He looked an awful lot like-

 

“Potter.”

 

Malfoy.

 He knew that voice anywhere. It was ingrained into his memory like the back of his hand.

 

 “Malfoy?!” Harry gasped in shock. What had become of the proud, arrogant boy he had always known? He barely seemed the same, his face was void of any sneer or smirk, he just looked…dead. Like he had given up.

 

“Potter,” his voice was gentle and raspy, unlike anything he had heard come from Malfoy’s mouth ever. It made his insides flip a bit to hear Draco say his name like that.

 

“What happened to you, Malfoy?”

 

“I’d say that was fairly obvious.” Okay there was the Malfoy Harry knew.

 “I got fucked in the ass and beaten up by someone who’s supposed to love me, now I’m even more messed up.”

 

It was silent again. What was he supposed to say? His mouth had dried up uncomfortably and his palms were getting moist.

Harry wasn’t sure what to say. He sat down in the chair next to the bed and gripped Malfoy’s hand after subconsciously wiping it. Harry half expected the blonde to object as he flinched at first, but he didn’t, instead he squeezed it and stared at the ceiling. Their little connection almost felt natural, like holding the blonde's hand was the most normal thing in the world.

 

“Look, I’m not good at supporting people emotionally, and I can’t really say I’ve been through what you’ve been through, but I’m here you know, if you want.” Harry rambled, he had never really been good at explaining what he meant.

 

Nothing was said for a few minutes.

 

“What is it you want from me, Potter?” his voice came out hoarser and deeper than before.

 

“I don’t want anything, Malfoy.” He replied.

 

“Just leave me be, I don’t want to be your charity case.” his voice was soft instead of spiteful.

 

“You’re not, I just want to be here for you.”

 

Malfoy frowned and removed his hand from Harry’s grip. “Why? It’s only because you feel sorry for me, you don’t genuinely care. It’s been - how long? – about seven years since the end of the war, and you hated my guts then, now you want to be there for me? Bull. Do I finally fall into your category of precious little victims?”

 

This got Harry mad. Malfoy was acting like a child, and Harry wasn't a mum, he wasn't going to deal with it.

“I do genuinely care! I’m not an insensitive ass like you are, I know we’ve never gotten along before and it has been a while but I’m a decent person, unlike you. We’re different people now, and it’s my job to help you.”

Malfoy looked like he was on the verge of tears. “No, it was your job to rescue me from that house and then go home for the day. Not this, y-you’re confusing me.”

“You’re pathetic, Malfoy.” Harry didn’t know what else to say. That was all he could say.

 

“I know I am.”

 

Harry got up and left.

 

 

 

“How was he?” Ron asked as he came out of the room.

 

“As expected, though not really.”

 

Ron just nodded, “Who is he?”

 

Harry gulped, hundreds of seconds seeming to pass before he quietly uttered, “Malfoy.”

 

Ron's sincere expression grew from calm to flabbergasted. “What?! Malfoy? No way, you're joking right? I’m surprised I didn’t recognise him. I had no idea that he was gay, and that he lived in a muggle neighbourhood.”

“Yeah, me too.”

 

“Damn…I actually can’t believe it. Anyway, you should come back to ours for drinks tonight.”

It alarmed him how quickly Ron changed the topic, but he didn't mention it.

Harry stared for a moment, “Yeah, I will.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, reader.  
> Welcome to another chapter. I hope you liked this one, though I fear it is poorly written.  
> Leave kudos and comments as usual. <3


	4. Harry, Ron and Hermione

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco Malfoy is gay?!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, reader!!! :)  
> Welcome to another chapter! It's quite short so I'll be updating tomorrow as I'll be busy today. I hope you enjoy...
> 
> Leave kudos and comments as usual <3
> 
> ~Inkzy

“Honestly boys, I don’t know why you didn’t expect it. Of _course_ Draco Malfoy is gay.” Hermione said matter-of-factly, setting down three glasses of butterbeer onto the kitchen table where they were all sat. It had been protocol for them to enjoy a glass ever since the end of the war. Butterbeer was easily Harry's favourite drink, the sweet warm liquid always putting him into a dozy state of content.

“What do you mean, EXPECT it?!” Ron exclaimed loudly, lifting his arms in the air. He was generally always this dramatic, a trait that Harry and Hermione had learned to accept over the years. They watched him, subtly annoyed at his outburst.

 

“I mean,” Hermione coughed and sipped at her drink, “It’s a bit obvious, isn’t it. He went out with like three boys at Hogwarts.” She told them.

 

“WHAT?!” Harry and Ron both shouted incredulously, disbelief written all over their faces.

 

“Who?!” Ron’s face was twisted in disgust. A face he hadn't seen in so many years.

 

“Two Ravenclaw boys, they were a year older. He went out with one for like four months and he went out with the other one for like eight months. The last one he’s been going out with since seventh year.” She told them, disbelieving of their lack of knowledge of Malfoy’s love life.

“Marcus.” Harry murmured.

 

"I just thought he was a lonely git that nobody wanted.” Ron said jokingly.

Harry snorted, “Me too.” It had not occurred to him that Malfoy could be anyone's boyfriend. The thought of him being nice and affectionate and romantic was just completely foreign to him.

 

Hermione rolled her eyes, “Well, in case you haven’t noticed, he’s quite an attractive guy. Not exactly my type, but yeah, quite attractive.”

“Probably why Harry was so obsessed with him in sixth year.” Ron commented, earning a punch in the arm from said man.

 

“I’m surprised you care more about the fact he’s gay rather than the fact he was raped several times and beaten to a pulp in his own home.”

 

Ron and Harry gulped guiltily. Shame grew over their faces.

“I forgot about that.” Ron said quietly. Hermione looked at him pointily.

 

“If that happened to me…” Ron began to say, “I just couldn’t take it, I don’t know what I’d do. How could someone do that to somebody they loved? It makes no sense. How do you even recover from something like that?”

Hermione agreed solemnly.

 

“So what are you going to do about it, boys?”

 

Ron and Harry looked at each other for a moment.

“Same thing we always do with domestics,” Harry told her, “Gather up all the evidence we can before the testimony and hope that his partner gets put in jail.”

“And what if he doesn’t?”

 

 

“Well,” Ron said, “We can only hope.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, reader!!! :)  
> Welcome to another chapter! It's quite short so I'll be updating tomorrow as I'll be busy today. I hope you enjoy...
> 
> Leave kudos and comments as usual <3
> 
> ~Inkzy


	5. Malfoy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello reader !!! :)  
> Welcome to another chapter! A bit short but I have less time than I thought I'd have so bear with me please.   
> I hope you enjoyed...  
> Leave kudos and comments as usual <3

Usually Tuesdays were an awful day for slacking off work, as all the unfinished chaos from Monday always caught up, but Harry couldn’t bring himself to be interested, he wanted to talk to Malfoy again. After his his catch-up with Ron and Hermione, he realised there were a lot of things he wanted to talk to him about. There was something about him that Harry was hooked on, but he wasn't sure what. He was a mystery, and far more interesting than all of his other cases anyway. 

The blonde was different than he used to be. He seemed mellower, as though his mask was gone, but a different one was put up. He had read about how abuse can change people, their mind and their behaviours, but Draco was now a completely different person, and Harry probably wouldn't have recognised him if he didn't have the same voice and hair. He had no idea why his obsession with Malfoy had started again. His relationship with him in Hogwarts was bad but they were both adults now and it should have already stopped. Besides, nobody takes school feuds seriously, right?

Nevertheless, Harry strode down what was probably going to become a familiar path through St Mungo’s to Malfoy’s room.

The hospital was definitely less crowded than yesterday; the atmopshere was calm and quiet, something which Harry enjoyed. He was increasingly growing nervous to how Malfoy would interact with him today. If Harry recalled correctly, he had been extremely rude to Draco; he wasn’t being that bad, just a little sarcastic at most, and Harry had been awful to him, especially considering what had happened to him. He just generally wasn't good at talking to victims, still struggling with his own pain and therefore finding it hard to reach a point of empathy. But he had walked into that house and found him, he looked more like a trapped animal than a person. Did Harry feel sorry for him? He wasn’t sure.

Well obviously, he did in a sense that he’s a victim, but Malfoy was still _Malfoy_. Whatever _that_ meant anyway.

 

When he came to knock on the door, he found his pulse rapidly increasing. He regretted coming here, there was no way that Draco would want to talk to him, especially considering what had happened the previous day.Harry plucked up his courage and raised a fist to the door.

After a stiff knock, a weak voice mumbled, “Hello.”

 

Something heavy in Harry’s stomach dropped. Shakily, he opened the door and stepped inside slowly, looking around.

 

Malfoy wasn’t laying in bed this time. Instead, he was standing in front of the mirror on the wall, staring at his reflection. He was so engrossed, he didn’t acknowledge Harry’s presence for a long time. Grey eyes wandered over every part of himself. Small pale hands felt over his flat and subtly muscled abdomen and pulled at the skin there, as though trying to pinpoint any areas of imperfection. Harry wondered what Draco thought about his appearance; his placid face made it hard to tell, but considering his eyes and hands kept going to the same places, he probably didn't have a positive opinion.

There was nothing wrong with Malfoy’s body. It was a good body. Better than Harry’s own, not that the auror would admit that out loud. But still, the blonde frowned and tugged unhappily.

 

After five more minutes of Malfoy’s silent judgement, he finally noticed Harry’s presence.Another frown came upon his lips. Malfoy looked startled, alarmingly so.

 

“Potter.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello reader !!! :)  
> Welcome to another chapter! A bit short but I have less time than I thought I'd have so bear with me please.   
> I hope you enjoyed...  
> Leave kudos and comments as usual <3


	6. The New Malfoy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry's first positive interaction with Draco

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, here is another chapter!  
> The last ones have been quite short so I'm planning on updating more frequently. I hope you enjoyed.  
> Leave kudos and comments as usual...
> 
> ~Inkzy

“Have you finished spying and perving on me,” Malfoy raised an eyebrow and turned around to face Harry, masking whatever shock had come to his mind. He was surprisingly quite confident when he said this, despite his discomfort yesterday.

Harry blushed and spluttered, not used to being scrutinised. Most people never questioned his behaviours.

“I-I wasn- what are you-“ he stuttered.

 

Draco chuckled weakly and sat down on his bed. He didn’t say anything so Harry wasn’t sure what he should do. He looked fragile and thin, much like an elderly person, it was kind of fascinating to watch.

“You can come in, you know. I don’t bite.”

 

And Harry did, reluctantly so. He stood across from Malfoy and studied him for a moment.

The blonde’s eyes were on the ground, his hands were folded in each other, and legs were crossed at the ankle. Such an odd way to sit for a bloke, he had never ever seen anyone sit like that before. He wondered at what it could possibly mean.

“So,” Harry began to say as he joined Malfoy on the bed, the blonde didn’t look up, “how are you?” he asked hesitantly.

 

Malfoy’s lips struggled for a moment, seemingly unable to let any words past. “I’m as I should be, the same as I always am.”

 

Harry frowned. “Why do you say that?” He hated when people did that, Harry wasn't that smart and he didn't like when people spoke in riddles, it reminded him of Dumdledore. He believed that riddles were tomfoolery and that people should just get straight to the point.

 

Malfoy stared harder at the floor and tears began to fall from pale eyes. It was weird to watch.

 “Hey,” Harry said softly, “are you crying?” Of course he already knew that he was crying, but he didn't know what to say.

Draco looked up and sniffled. His eyes and cheeks were red and glistening.

“Oh…” Harry said.

 

He wasn’t adept at comforting people at all, used to just being on his own. The only experience he had with that kind of thing was in sixth year with Hermione when Ron had went out with Lavender Brown, and he hadn't needed to stay much because Hermione was generally a reclusive person and was used to dealing with things on her own. He fiddled in his robe pocket for a handkerchief to dry Malfoy's face with, not knowing what else to do. He had to rummage around a bit but he eventually found it, the time it was taking to get it making things a bit awkward.

The small sheet of cloth was dark green and spotted, an odd pattern that did not suit Harry at all, but still accepted it anyway. He didn't know why he carried it, because it was coming up to the start of Spring and the weather was nearly always warm, but he still he did not leave the house without it.

“Here,” Harry said. He brought the soft material to the other man’s face and wiped away the wetness. Malfoy didn’t seem comfortable with it at first but then started to move closer to allow easier access. His eyes gently drifted shut, dark lashes dusting over high cheekbones.

Harry flushed. Hermione was right, Malfoy was quite attractive.

Harry hand kept on trembling at how close the other man was. He should have finished wiping sometime ago, but new tears kept on falling, and to let go would mean Malfoy would still have wet cheeks. Harry didn't think the man would like being touched, but it seemed that he enjoyed affection a lot, as though he was starved from it, kind of like a cat. It was sad for Harry to watch, the blonde drinking from the soft feel of the cloth like a homeless man eating his first meal in weeks. 

“It’s beautiful,” Draco murmured softly, opening his eyes.

“Yeah,” Harry said daydreamingly, staring right into the other man’s face; he wasn’t sure what he was agreeing to exactly, but his body just couldn’t seem to function properly.

“Where did you get it from?”

Harry wasn’t used to hearing the blonde speak without a sneer in his voice. He found it hard to believe that he was actually being friendly and polite towards him.        

 

“Uhh, I don’t know, I just, have it…” Harry mumbled. He expected a snide remark for his lack of eloquence, but Malfoy did nothing of the sort. His slim delicate fingers grasped the material as Harry tried to take it away.

“May I…May I have it, please? If you don’t mind.” he asked shyly, unable to look Harry in the eye.

 

Harry raised his brow and nodded slowly, “Uh yeah…I guess.”

 

Draco smiled gently, “Thank you, Harry.”

 

“No problem.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, here is another chapter!  
> The last ones have been quite short so I'm planning on updating more frequently. I hope you enjoyed.  
> Leave kudos and comments as usual...
> 
> ~Inkzy


	7. At the Office

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry goes to work after visiting Draco in the hospital...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello my lovely readers!!!!  
> I hope you enjoyed this chapter, there will be more coming soon...  
> Leave kudos, suggestions and comments as usual <3

Malfoy’s behaviour was confusing Harry to no end. He wasn’t exactly sure how he should feel about the blonde. One minute he was his usual snarky self, glowering and spitting out remarks about anything and everything, and then the next he was someone completely new, innocent and sweet and just _not_ Malfoy. Was this the result of the abuse? Harry had read about cases like these, where the victims just changed, and nobody could find their old selves back. It would be awful, losing yourself in such a manner, having someone take everything you are away from you. It was horrible to think about.

Harry couldn’t say he knew much what that was like. He didn’t really know himself before Hogwarts (as he was pretty much just a slave for the Dursleys) and had never had much of a personality before he met Ron and Hermione on the Hogwarts express. After all, he had been the freak who cleaned and worked; the other boys in his class had liked to play football and the latest video games. But had Harry even liked video games? He wasn’t sure, he had never played them before. He wondered at what he'd be like if he hadn't of went to Hogwarts, if he would have went to that horrible boarding school Vernon always talked about, if he'd have a regular muggle job and maybe a dog like all of the other muggles. It was an interesting concept, but the thought of not knowing about the wizarding world scared Harry a lot. What if Hagrid had never come for him that night? What if he was stuck in Surrey with a regular existence?

 

Harry sighed. He should probably get started on his work.

 

It was a quiet day, and his shift ended in about four hours, so he could get this paperwork done quickly and then grab something to eat. His office was getting quite hot and stuffy so he stood up to switch on the air conditioning when he heard something coming from outside, probably from down the hall. He cast a sound magnifying charm and listened carefully. People walking past his door made him feel generally uncomfortable, despite all of the locks and charms on it, it gave him a sense of being trapped like he was in that cupboard under the stairs again. He had no idea why, but the feeling always came.

 

“Did you ‘ear what ‘appened with the Malfoy bloke?” A male said, with a strong southern accent. He was definitely from London, and not the posher side either.

 

“Who ‘asn’t?” A different male voice said afterwards, “I _hate_ his type anyway, disgustin’ the lot o’ them!”

 

Harry frowned. He gathered it was two men having a conversation. About Draco.

 

“Them fairy boys make me sick!” The first man said, chuckling jokingly, “Looks dead youn’ doesn’t he? Probably has daddy issues an’ all.”

The other man made a noise of agreement.

 

Harry shook his head and dispelled the charm. He didn’t want to listen to anymore. He never understood close-minded people like that, what was wrong with being gay? Love was love, right? And how was which gender Draco was attracted to an important part of his identity anyway? Harry did not like peas, he thought they were disgusting and sickly, but that didn't mean he went around talking about how much he hated them. Why couldn’t people just keep their mouths shut about these things? Draco’s sexuality was none of their business and did not make him less of a victim than if he were a woman.

He sat back down in his chair and spun around the room in it. It was a decent day, sun in the sky, and he was stuck inside his office. Good times. Kingsley wouldn’t mind if he just took off for the day, would he?After all, there was only leftover work from yesterday and it wouldn’t hurt to just get out for a bit…

 

*

 

Kingsley sighed.

“Harry. This is the fourth time you’ve asked this since the start of last week.”

Harry ran a hand through his hair. “I know, sir. I’m really sorry but it’s just that, well it’s a really nice day and there isn’t much needing to do in here.”

 

Kingsley just sighed again. “Harry. I’ve been your boss for, how long, three years- nearly four years now, so I can say that I know you quite a bit. You want to be out there, fighting and investigating and experiencing things. That is probably what you pictured when you signed up here. But as your friend, your well-being is in my best interests, and I know that with the war and the trauma in your life, these jobs are just too… dangerous… for your health.” Kingsley opened his mouth again, as though he wanted to say something, but then closed it.

“Sir, please. You know I need this. If I sit behind a desk for all of my life I’ll end up going insane!” Harry explained passionately.

 

The head auror sat and thought for a moment, avoiding Harry’s eyes.

 

“You know what,” the dark man began, “I’ll give you a proposition. I want you to stay off work for three weeks. Have time to yourself, you know, think and go to places. Just do whatever you do. I want you to figure yourself out…Figure out if you even really want to keep working here. You’ve serviced our world enough, Harry, and you deserve time to think things over.”

 

They both thought long and hard in silence.

 

“Thank you.” Was all Harry said before he turned to the door and left.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello my lovely readers!!!!  
> I hope you enjoyed this chapter, there will be more coming soon...  
> Leave kudos, suggestions and comments as usual <3


	8. Narcissa

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry witnesses a reunion between Draco and Narcissa

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, reader!!! :)  
> Damn, it's been a while, but here is chapter 8. I hope you enjoyed, I've been very excited about this chapter as now I have Badluckvixen13 co-authoring with me, something I've never done before and she's really helping me bring this fic to its fullest potential so a big thank you and shoutout to her. Considering we both have a routine, the chapters will definitely be coming up more regularly. If you have any ideas or suggestions, don't be afraid to drop a comment down below, I don't bite ;)
> 
> Leave kudos and comments as usual <3 ~ Inkzy

It was Harry’s first day off on his _break_. Somehow, he figured that there was no better way to spend his morning than to visit Malfoy. He wasn’t really sure what exactly had compelled him to visit the blonde, it was as though a magnetic force just pulled them together sometimes, well at least that’s what it was like for Harry, it didn’t seem like the other man enjoyed Harry’s company that much.

He was sure that the nurses and doctors would find it suspicious if he kept visiting without a motive, and somehow, he’d end up on the front page of the Daily Prophet in three different articles supporting the idea of some kind of possible romance.

He shook his head, walking down the corridor towards Malfoy’s room. He was pretty sure that he was straight. There had been Cho, then Ginny and then the war had made a mess of anything that looked like stability. He tilted his head with a wry smile.

He hadn’t really thought about in depth. He hadn’t really thought about it at all, but the Daily Prophet seemed to think about it  quite a lot. There had been scores of ridiculous rumors about who he dated over the years.

 _Do I even want to date anyone?_ Let alone Malfoy?

He let the thought bounce off into the back of his mind as greeted random Healers on the familiar trip to Malfoy’s room.

“Hello Auror Potter,” they greeted and he smiled and nodded at them.

There weren’t many people around, but he was still grateful that he decided to wear his Auror uniform. He still wasn’t sure what he would say to people if they asked why he was visiting Malfoy personally, at least this way it was just “Auror business” and people went on their way.

Something in his gut churned. It sounded at once Slytherin and incredibly cowardly of him to hide behind his uniform. Luckily, the moment of introspection was interrupted by the fact that he’d reached the right hall and Malfoy’s door was ajar.

That wasn’t right. Couldn’t be right. He swallowed, reaching for his wand tucked in his rove and crept silently towards it to peek through the gap.

As expected, Malfoy was laying in bed, but he was talking to someone, someone Harry thought he’d never see again.

“Mum,” Draco smiled warmly at her, an expression which did not look natural on his usually twisted face, which caused numerous thoughts to fly through Harry’s brain.

Malfoy looked nice, serene almost in bed speaking with Narcissa.

“Draco, darling. You look awfully pale, would you like me to call Healer Grace?” Narcissa asked kindly, a concerned line creasing her forehead.

“No, I think it’s just me.” Draco chuckled a bit, causing butterflies to fly around in Harry’s stomach.

He winced at the feeling, at once heady and uncomfortable. He hadn’t felt those since he first kissed Ginny. A nervous and excited feeling that left his stomach twisted in on itself. It wasn’t as if Malfoy wasn’t an attractive guy. How could he not be with the drops of Veela in his bloodstream?

_Do male Veela even have the same effect as female Veela?_

He’d never really be affected by Veela so he really wouldn’t know. Perhaps he should ask Hermione about it.

“On a more serious note, I want to know why you didn’t come and tell me where you were, especially after the first time that _beast_ harmed you. Your father and I have been worried sick.”

Draco rolled his eyes and looked at her seriously, “You mean you were worried sick.”

The pale woman frowned, “You rejected the tradition, you knew what would happen.”

“Tradition,” he said with a scoff. “Because we Malfoys and Blacks have _so_ much to be proud of…”

Harry frowned. He wasn’t sure how to line this up with the Malfoy from school, from the war, who seemed so very haughty in his pure-blood privilege. After all, how many times had he said “ _Wait until my father hears about this?_ ” in any given year?

_Then again, you didn’t know he was gay either, Harry…_

“I think being with that man has messed up your head. You seem to be completely different now.”

Harry watched Draco stiffen, flinch back and just a bit of that light dimmed his his gray eyes, turning them to almost gun metal. It made him uncomfortable and protective all at once like he should run away and run to defend Draco at the same time...

 _Wait...Draco?_ When had Harry started referring to him as Draco?

“That happens, mother…” Draco started. “I am still the same. I’m just tired of fighting things that don’t need to be fought. Can you understand that?”

 _Can you understand me?_ Is what Harry heard oddly and he frowned wondering where that came from. He’d been called obtuse and downright oblivious to subtext for quite sometime, despite his moments of insight--

 _One moment,_ a voice that sounded like Hermione scolded at the back of his mind. _After months of prodding._

He shook his head at the thought and looked back to Narcissa who stared at Draco strangely. Perhaps she too was trying to figure out the meaning behind what he was say. She nodded after a moment, but that light did not return to Draco’s eyes…

Perhaps Draco had the same niggling feeling in his stomach… A niggling feeling that Narcissa didn’t hear the words unspoken and probably wouldn’t know what to do with them even if she did. Harry sure as hell didn’t know what to do with the fact that he heard them and the woman had never struck him as anything but emotionally repressed…

“Well, just so you know, you aren’t officially disowned yet,” Narcissa pressed on. “I convinced Lucius to give it some time as he still hasn’t got around to erasing you from the tree. You have a week to come back to us, you will have the manor and money, but you must marry a pure-blooded witch and provide an heir.”

Harry’s stomach jolted watching Draco’s eyes flash almost dangerously, a familiar angry spark and indignation in those silver eyes. Apparently, Draco still didn’t do well with threats and what an ultimatum Narcissa had lay at his feet.

Draco frowned. “And if I don’t?”

“Then you’re going to find difficulty in finding some place to live, aren’t you?” she said coldly.

Harry held his breath watching the two of them. Narcissa’s face stern and cold regarding Draco who seemed to observe with a heated bitterness. He wondered where Draco got his will from and if this would turn into a battle wills. If perhaps, he got his sniveling personality from Lucius. Narcissa broke first with a heavy sigh as her eyes watered and filled with tears.

“I love you, Draco,” she said desperately. “I…”

“I love you also, mother,” he said, something in his voice making her shut her mouth and stand without even bidding him goodbye.

Harry stepped quickly out of sight as she opened the door fully and walked past him. Her chin was level, her shoulders back, but it was her eyes that gave her away. Narcissa Malfoy wasn’t at all the Lady Malfoy that she had learned to act. He couldn’t tell if that meant that Narcissa truly loved Draco or if they had a decent relationship before Draco left home, but he could tell an attempt to patch things over when he saw it, a desperate move for reparations like a criminal begging for a plea. Narcissa wanted her son to come home and for everything to be as it was no matter how unhappy it made them all.

 _Selfish,_ is the word that came to mind as he watched her go, relaxing the farther away she was. _Conniving..._

He shook his head and peeked in to look at Draco who seemed to be staring holes in the sheets on his lap. His jaw tense, teeth grinding, and his fists clenched. He didn’t look angry, just… bitter, resigned maybe? Harry had never really been good at reading emotions, but he could read situations.

Draco was contemplating his options. His time at St. Mungo’s was a slipping away faster than Draco could find healing. He could go back to the house he’d shared with Marcus, but would probably only end up back at St. Mungo’s with an Erumphent sized hole in his psychic stability.

Where would he go? Did Draco even have friends? Real friends? He doubted it given the Slytherin outlook on people…

Would he be on the streets perhaps? How had he been surviving all this time? Had Marcus been his complete support system? Harry shivered at the thought and the reality that nine time out of ten domestic abuse survivors had lost all sense of a support system in the course of their relationships… Even worse that it seemed his family had disowned him even before that.

Draco had no one…

Well, except for Harry.

 _He is a Black, technically,_ Harry’s conscience nudged.

He drew back startled at the thought. It seemed ridiculous, but it was possible that Draco could live with Harry. After all, Grimmauld Place had plenty of space, furniture and expensive things that Draco would like. Kreacher would love the extra cooking and cleaning to do, especially with it being for a true heir of the Black House. Harry wouldn’t mind the company either, things were pretty lonely in that big old house with nothing but bitter paintings and ghosts to keep him company.

So Malfoy did have a place to stay after all. The only problem would be getting him to put aside their differences, not get angry that Harry was offering and heard the entire conversation, and agree to come. Gathering up all of his courage, he grabbed the door handle and pulled the door open, walking inside.

“I was wondering how long you would stand outside, Potter.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, reader!!! :)  
> Damn, it's been a while, but here is chapter 8. I hope you enjoyed, I've been very excited about this chapter as now I have Badluckvixen13 co-authoring with me, something I've never done before and she's really helping me bring this fic to its fullest potential so a big thank you and shoutout to her. Considering we both have a routine, the chapters will definitely be coming up more regularly. If you have any ideas or suggestions, don't be afraid to drop a comment down below, I don't bite ;)
> 
> Leave kudos and comments as usual <3 ~ Inkzy


	9. Dinner

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco stays at Grimmauld Place for dinner with Ron and Hermione and settles in for his new life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, reader :)  
> I hope you enjoy this chapter, I'd once again like to thank Badluckvixen13 for her wondrous way with words on this chapter and really helping me develop this fic properly. If you have any ideas or suggestions for us to try, I'm open to anything you have to say. Thanks for all the support I've gotten with this and I hope you all like the outcome of my story.  
> Leave comments and kudos as usual <3

Harry froze in the doorway. The whole plan blown apart as Draco looked at him, eyes cool and assessing; Harry had no idea what to say. How had he known? He was pretty sure that he hadn’t been visible, and more importantly, why didn’t he say anything?

“The Aurors… already took a statement this morning,” he said casually, staring at his nails. “Said that you were off-duty for a while… so I guess you’re here to gloat.” His voice lingered as he stared up at Harry.

Harry swallowed as Draco’s lips twitched and he looked back towards his legs.

“Not that I wouldn’t deserve it. The Slytherin Prince-- broken and destitute,” he scoffed. “Not Slytherin enough to crawl home and be a good heir for as long as it takes for him to die…”

Harry crossed the room and took the seat that Narcissa vacated. Draco shook his head solemnly.

“Pathetic, isn't it?”

There was a pause. Harry was sure that remark was supposed to sound sarcastic, but there was a slight tint of wetness in the blonde’s voice. He was too afraid to look at Draco’s face, in case he’d find tears there.

“Actually…” Harry said, shuffling uncomfortably. “I have a proposition for you.”

*

“You… did _what_?” Ron asked incredulously, looking up at him from the table as Hermione went about helping Harry clean up. He'd sent Kreacher to get food prepared leaving him a chance to get rid of some nerves and seek some advice.

“I offered him to stay here.”

“But it's _Malfoy_ ,” Ron said, laughing nervously and forcing Hermione’s gaze. “You know… Punched in the face, Death Eater, _Malfoy_ . The one that bullied ‘Mione and countless others all throughout school, and helped the Death Eaters into Hogwarts. You know, _that_ Malfoy. Oh, and by the way Harry, what the actual fuck were you thinking?!”

“Ron,” Hermione said, looking at him sternly to quieten him before she looked at Harry. “I think it’s very kind of you Harry to offer up Grimmauld as a place to stay.”

Harry gave her a hopeless smile, of course she did. Hermione had always been the understanding and supportive one, even when she didn’t necessarily agree with Harry. Especially after the war, she was always tip-toeing around him, doing anything she could to make his life easier, something Harry both hated and admired.

“Thank you, ‘Mione,” Harry said. “I mean… he is Sirius’s cousin.”

Ron blinked, “What?”

“Narcissa,” Harry said. “She’s Sirius’s cousin.”

Ron’s jaw dropped, “But… Sirius was so… _cool._ And Malfoy...well, he’s _Malfoy_ , innit?”

Harry snorted and shook his head, “Just… try and play nice, alright?”

“I can’t promise that,” Ron said. “You know how Malfoy grates my nerves.”

Harry knew how the old Malfoy grated his nerves for sure, but he wasn’t sure how this one, this one without money, privilege, or even a real sense of self-worth would make Ron react. At the very least, he could count on Hermione to be nice and to keep Ron in line for most of the evening.

Never mind that Draco hadn’t agreed to move in, just agreed to come over for dinner and see how he liked it. He’d warned Draco that Hermione and Ron would be there as well and tried to keep his wits about him. He didn’t know what Kreacher was making and didn’t really care so long as it was food enough to keep Ron quiet.

As he pulled out his chair to sit down, there came a soft knock from the door, causing all three of them to turn their heads as Kreacher trudged inside, a small and confused blonde following him hesitantly.

“Master Potter.” the elf croaked, “Kreacher has been finding a Malfoy heir on the doorstep claiming to be Master Potter’s guest.”

“Malfoy.” Harry said, staring unsurely at him.

Malfoy looked _small_. He didn’t remember the blonde looking so petite and young. What was it that was stunting his growth? Had he always just seemed so much bigger than he actually was? Harry wasn’t classed as old, but he was old enough that he didn’t look like a teenager anymore. He studied Draco’s face and hair, noting the perfectly structured cheek and jaw and blemish-free porcelain skin; the silvery, long locks of fine hair that Harry used to hate so much. His pale, clear eyes were large, nearly comically so, and rose-petal lips were pulled into a frown. His face was perfectly the same as it had always been, but there was something way off. Draco almost looked like a doll, and even the most attractive people did not look as symmetrical as Draco did. It wasn’t normal. Harry’s eyes moved to the stature of Malfoy, assessing the long, lean look of the man. He was thin, but not skinny like he used to be, and had a lightly muscled and toned look to his limbs. He probably only reached up to Harry’s shoulder, and Harry wasn’t the tallest of people either.

“Well,” Malfoy said, surprisingly confidently despite the terrified look on his face, “Are you all just going to sit there and gawk at me all day?”

One could tell that he regretted it as soon as he said it even if his expression didn’t change from that false bravado. Harry’s words stuck in his throat because yes… Yes he did want to stare at Draco and figure out what had happened as if he could read the turns of time and events in Draco’s life just in his appearance.

Hermione was the first to break the silence.

“No, of course not, come in Draco, sit down.” Hermione said and pulled out the chair next to Harry. This made Ron scoff and budge his chair up to the furthest corner of the table away from Harry.

“Thank you.” he mumbled softly before sitting down and staring into his lap.

Harry coughed and looked away from him only to look at Hermione who was giving him a meaningful look. He looked to Ron who looked about ready to whip out his wand and blast Draco if he so much as sneezed.There would be no bailout it seemed and, more importantly, no backing down.

After a few more moments of silence, Hermione only closed her eyes and took the reigns with a sigh. Harry had the best of intentions but he never quite got around to developing a _plan_ even now.

She gave a gentle smile and directed her eyes to Draco who seemed skittish and almost swallowed by the jumper he wore.

“We’re glad to have you. How have you been, Draco?”

It was quiet for quite a bit, and it seemed as though he had just ignored her, before he finally looked up and met her eyes hesitantly.

“I am as I should be, considering what has happened.” his voice was cold as ice, but not unfriendly.

Hermione nodded, grateful for at least a reply, stilted as it was as Ron and Harry just kept their mouths shut and watched on.

“When we heard what happened, we...we were just in absolute shock. This whole situation must be incredibly difficult for you, but we’re all here for you--to support you when you want it, if you need it.” she said it as though she had planned it.

Harry looked at her as Ron gave her a wide-eyed look. Harry was sure they would have words about it later, but Harry had never been so grateful for Hermione being a year older and at least five years more mature.

“Yes,” Draco said calmly, staring at the space in front of him, “I’m sure _all three of you_ are, thank you.”

Hermione’s foot nudged Harry’s shin beneath the table as Draco looked at Harry pointedly, causing him to sweat nervously. Draco had immediately disagreed to the proposition at the prospect of Ron and Hermione being there, and it had taken a lot of persuasion to get him to come to dinner. He knew he could count on Hermione to be supportive, having such sympathy and understanding of these things… He could at least count on Ron to be there and ready to blast Draco if things got out of hand. Harry opened his mouth to say something before a loud crack sounded through the room as Kreacher re-entered, carrying dinner on a huge silver platter.

“Dinner is ready,” the elf announced, sparring Harry from trying to come up with something to say, but not escaping Hermione’s scolding look.

They sat in silence as their plates were served, muttering quiet and respectful thank-yous as the elf individually set the plates down. When he reached Draco, he took extra time adjusting the knife and fork and laying a napkin down upon his lap.

Harry still wasn’t sure if it was because Draco was a Black, a pure blood, or perhaps having been abused for so long and having some understanding of what had happened to Draco that the old elf had a bit of empathy for Draco and simply wanted to make him feel better. It wasn’t as if he and Kreacher really talked in all this time since he’d been living in Grimmauld. He was long past the days of saying nasty things to Hermione and taking drops of Harry’s blood to poison people with, but they weren’t anywhere near as close as he and Dobby had been.

Kreacher looked at Draco and smiled what Harry assumed was supposed to be a friendly smile, but looked twisted on his usually unfriendly face. Draco hesitantly smiled shyly back, muttering a gentle thank-you before tucking into his meal. Harry, Ron and Hermione watched with curiosity before exchanging looks and tucking into their own meals.

Surprisingly, the evening continued on with more ease, the warmth of the food relaxing them all into a state of comfort. Ron and Harry started up a conversation about Quidditch, something which Hermione couldn’t care for much, but still tried to include herself anyway in between attempting to converse with Draco. Draco focussed on his food, only speaking when he was asked a question directly, and generally looked awkward. Throughout the night, Harry glanced at Draco, feeling sorry for him. He imagined if the situation was reversed and if he’d have to sit and socialise with Draco’s Slytherin friends. He was sure that none of them would be nearly as polite or inviting as Hermione was…

Merlin, this was the worst idea he’d ever had.

Eventually, Harry just dropped out of the conversation, waiting for Ron and Hermione to finish talking. How they got onto the topic of wizarding chess, he had no idea…

_Draco played chess didn’t he?_

Hermione had asked Draco something about his hobbies or… something?

“Come off it, Ron! There is no way you could beat me at wizard’s chess!”

Ron snorted mockingly, “Are you being serious? Everyone knows I’m the Hogwarts chess legend. Remember first year?”

Harry swallowed and grit his teeth as Hermione raised an eyebrow. He thought he’d told them not to bring up Hogwarts or anything of that nature. He knew from that look on Hermione’s face that she remembered plainly the rules and had already kicked Ron under the table for his slip-up.

_Merlin, Ron, you git!_

“ _Legend_ is a bit of an exaggeration, don’t you think? You lost to Mrs. Jensen, just the other day.”

Ron scowled, “Why you--”

“Right!” Harry said loudly, interrupting Ron mid-sentence, “I think it’s time you two head home for the night, don’t you think?”

“Yes, I think you’re right Harry,” Hermione said pinning Ron’s mouth shut with another look. “I’m sure you and Draco have a great deal to speak about.”

Harry felt himself breathe easily as Ron rose from the table with Hermione and prepared to depart. Draco only let his eyes drift up to the two of them as they prepared to leave.

“Dinner was lovely, Kreacher, thank you,” Hermione told the elf before looking over to Draco and Harry. “Thank you for inviting us ‘round. It was lovely catching up with you, Draco. If you get sick of Harry, feel free to reach out for conversation about something _other_ that Quidditch.”

Harry flushed but couldn’t say much as Draco’s lips twitched in the smallest of smiles before nodding. Hermione nudged Ron, meaningfully.

“Yeah, what she said... In a bit, mate.” he said casually, opening the door to walk out. They headed out the door and a moment passed before the door opened, closed, and Harry let out the breath he felt he’d been holding for most of dinner.

“Well, uh sorry about that.” Harry said awkwardly, “I could tell you were very uncomfortable, it wasn’t fair of me to do that.”

Draco looked up at Harry strangely, watching the flush on his cheeks. There was a question on his tongue, but he didn’t ask it.

Instead, he shrugged. “Well it’s your house, it’s none of my business who gets invited around here. And after all, I’m not unfamiliar with unfair treatment.”

Harry flinched at the flippant way he’d said it and decided to say nothing even as his eyes betrayed him and looked over at Draco.

Their eyes met, green and quicksilver meeting in silent communication for just longer than a moment before looking away and blushing. Harry couldn’t remember ever feeling so awkward in his entire life. And he’d all but embarrassed himself with Cho Chang in fifth year.

He cleared his throat and stood, spelling the dining table clean.

“So...Where’s your things? That is, assuming you’re staying here.”

Draco stood, arms down flat at his sides, and head down, feet together. Harry frowned, realizing that no, Draco wasn’t nearly as small as he appeared, his head was well near Harry’s. Standing, they were practically eye to eye...

“My-my things?” he repeated, sounding genuinely confused.

Harry sighed as he pushed all of the chairs around the table back in. “Yeah, your clothes and stuff.”

Draco looked up from the ground and across the table to Harry.

“Oh, I don’t have any,” he admitted quietly.

Harry turned to stare at him incredulously. “You don’t have clothes?”

Draco’s head ducked a little, maybe in shame, but Harr couldn’t tell. What did he mean he didn’t have clothes? He couldn’t be completely without things even if he was disowned from the family. Marcus was an arse, but he wouldn’t have let Draco walk around with rags. There were appearances to keep after all.

“All of my clothes are in my home and basically the entire area is taped off as a crime scene.”

Harry winced and could hear a voice that sounded like Hermione scolding him for opening his mouth and not thinking like always.

 _Of course,_ Harry thought, wanting to hit himself in the face.

“All I have are the ones I am wearing now,” he gestured at the white dress shirt and black pants, “and the only possession I have is this,” he pulled out the handkerchief that Harry had previously given him and dangled it between them before returning it to his pocket.

Silence lapsed as Harry tried to control the rolling of his stomach. For Merlin’s sake, he’d been through domestic violence cases and knew that the crime scene was pretty much taped off to entry for at least a few months as to get all of the evidence possible. With the case concerning Draco, a rather high profile person from the war and in the wizarding world, they would be sure to be extra thorough for the best chance to nail Marcus.

“Sorry… I...erm.” Harry said, shaking his head and trying to brighten his voice. “Well not to worry, I will buy you some clothes and--.”

“No,” Draco rasped, “I’m not a charity case, I’m not having anything for free.”

Despite Draco’s words, Harry wasn’t convinced that even Draco was convinced of his words. Hie eyes were blazing, yes, but his voice was so.... _tired._ It seemed that even as his mind was made up, his heart and pride just didn’t have the strength required to speak with real conviction.

Harry rolled his eyes, “Well you don’t exactly have a choice, do you?”

It came out harsher than Harry expected, something which he immediately regretted after witnessing the hopeless look on the blonde’s face.

 _Good going, Harry,_ he berated himself. It seemed that he really had simply been alone too long and relying on Hermione’s sense of social situations in order to get by. Had he always been such an arse?

Draco had always been a witty, untamed, and vocal person. Seeing him now, with his head slightly bowed, his mouth shut turned his stomach. Marcus…

Marcus  had broken him it seemed. Truly broken him, maybe beyond repair and it hurt Harry’s heart. More than the tragedy, it reminded him of 4 Privet Drive and reminding himself everyday was one day closer to escaping Vernon, Petunia and Dudley--striving to not be broken and being so incredibly broken anyway.

After sighing for the umpteenth time, Harry told Draco to follow him and led him to the fourth floor of the house. The room he had chosen for Draco was Regulus’s old room, just across from Sirius’s where Harry slept. He wasn’t sure if Draco would mind being so close to Harry, but the raven-haired man didn’t want the blonde too isolated in the creepy, dusty house that he still hadn’t managed to revitalize in all these years. It also gave Harry a sense of comfort to be near someone, even if it was just Draco.

“I got Kreacher to clear and sort out the room for you. You have a bed and just about everything else you need and more. I’m not sure if you’ve been here before or if you know this house well but there’s a bathroom on the floor below if you need it but there’s also an en-suite in here. If you want Kreacher you can just call him and he’ll bring you what you need. I need to go downstairs and sort some things out with your healer and to get you a lawyer for the case. In the meantime, you can just get comfortable and we’ll talk in the morning, okay?”

Draco nodded solemnly, walking inside of his new room, dread taking over his features. He panicked slightly as he heard the door shut softly behind him as Harry left. What was he to do?

Harry was just as distressed as Draco. This whole thing was going to be way harder than he thought.

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, reader :)  
> I hope you enjoy this chapter, I'd once again like to thank Badluckvixen13 for her wondrous way with words on this chapter and really helping me develop this fic properly. If you have any ideas or suggestions for us to try, I'm open to anything you have to say. Thanks for all the support I've gotten with this and I hope you all like the outcome of my story.  
> Leave comments and kudos as usual <3


	10. Living with Draco

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A couple of weeks have passed and Harry reflects what he has learned about Draco so far...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello reader !!! :)  
> I hope you enjoyed this chapter, it took a while to get up, but here it is. Another great job done with Badluckvixen13, shoutout to her...
> 
> Leave kudos and comments as usual <3  
> ~Inkzy

Tonight, it wasn’t Draco. It seemed that though Draco’s trauma was much closer in time, Harry’s scars ran deep enough that he woke up screaming still. The phantom pain of a Cruciatus curse making him lash out at the shadows of that snake-faced demon who had meant to kill him and everyone he’d ever loved.

He swallowed, the bitter taste of terror at the back of his mouth was stronger than usual, and ran a hand through his hair. He hadn’t had a nightmare in a couple of weeks, not since he’d been officially “off-duty” for his mandatory soul-searching. It seemed that every time he had one, they’d get worse, and more cruel with time.

Life at Grimmauld Place recently had been...okay.

Living with Draco was not at all hard, and he found that he liked things better with him in the house. The problem was, he was never around the house at all. Draco found sanctuary in his bedroom, and his bedroom only. That was partially Harry’s fault as at the start they argued a bit, pushing Draco further into the cave he was already hiding in. This gave him a feeling of guilt throughout the day as he was supposed to be supporting the blonde and helping him back to health, rather than doing what he was currently doing. He had tried many things to get them on a decent terms with each other again, to fix the small foundation of trust he had started to build, but nothing was working.

He’d offer Draco a sweet snack or ask him if he wanted to go out to dinner or on a walk, but the man would just say ‘not hungry’ or ‘tired’ and avoid him for the rest of the day. He wasn’t really sure what he was doing wrong because he wasn’t used to interacting with people so personally, only being used to working or talking to authorial figures and Hermione and Ron who hardly needed social grace in their treatment. Maybe he should ask a healer what to do about it, they could probably tell him why Draco wasn’t eating or sleeping properly either. He knew that irregular sleeping patterns and infrequent hunger was usually the case with sufferers of PTSD, but not to this extent.

If he was lucky, the blonde might even say ‘hello’ or ‘good morning’, but that was it for the day. While he wasn’t exactly a big eater, he knew from experience to at least push himself to have a minimum of one plate a day. Draco seemed quite content to slowly waste away since he was given a chance.

Harry also noticed that ever since Draco had been living with him, Grimmauld Place was always spotless. There was never any dust or anything out of place, all of the old rooms had been scrubbed clean and brought back to life, old paintings were back to their original state of perfection, the floors were gleaming with brilliance and the house seemed generally better. He’d come downstairs at half past nine in the morning to find Draco sweeping or dusting the mantel piece. But no matter how many times he would tell him that he appreciated it but he doesn’t need to do it and that it’s not his job, things were still the same the next morning.

He’d then go into the dining room where he’d find the entire top end of the table filled with pastries, muffins, juice and tea, and a huge English breakfast waiting for him, knives and forks laid out with fancy folded napkins to add to the list.

Nobody had ever cooked for him like this before, and while it was amazing to wake up to such amazing smells and warmth, Draco was not his cook or his cleaner, and did not have to do all of this for him. It made him feel more uncomfortable than grateful.

He usually found that there were immaculate triangular cheese and cucumber sandwiches for lunch and all of Harry’s favourite dishes for dinner such as: shepherd's pie, grilled lemon chicken and veggies and pasta. He accepted the meals for the first five days, for fear of feeling guilty about throwing away all of Draco’s efforts, but it was after then when he decided to stop eating them. It just wasn’t right to take advantage of the man’s state of mind when he’d brought Draco to Grimmauld to break him out of it. Harry was getting complaints from Kreacher too, who was starting to grow a small dislike for Draco and his housewife tendencies. Harry assumed he must have done all of this stuff for Marcus.

Though the man was no longer near Draco, no longer able to hurt him, he was still in Draco’s mind it seemed. It made Harry feel worse since he knew, quite well, what it meant to have demons whispering in your ear even when the physical threat was no longer around. It had made him rethink his strategy and his anger.

Especially after the first time Draco flinched away from him. The movement had broken his heart and it took Harry an admittedly embarrassing long time to figure out that it was the volume of his voice that did it. Considering how jumpy Harry had been that first year away from Vernon and Petunia, he should have caught on faster. He remembered what it was like to feel that way, afraid and unsure of everything all of the time, it was part of the reason that he became an Auror in the first place. He was sure that Draco had a lot of other problems too, but it was hard work trying to get him to talk to a healer about it, never mind Harry. Hell, Harry probably had a comparable number of skeletons in his own closet, but it seemed that having them wasnt going to make connecting with Draco, or getting the other to talk about his, any easier.

He learned quickly that so long as Harry felt like he was whispering, Draco wouldn’t flinch and that was the only reason that Harry had managed that conversation in the drawing room.

He’d sat Draco down in the drawing room and told thim that what he was doing was getting out of hand. He wasn’t a servant and didn’t need to cook or clean for Harry. If he wanted to make food he should make it for himself. Draco had sat with his head down, nodding solemnly, but it didn’t seem like he was really listening.

“Please Draco,” he said softly, earning Draco’s gray eyes on him. “I didn’t invite you to stay in Grimmauld to be a servant or a slave. I invited you here to give you...a safe place.”

Draco seemed to stare at him for longer than was comfortable, much longer, but whatever he heard and whatever he saw in Harry’s face had shifted something in their relationship and he nodded. The meals gradually stopped, and Harry would come downstairs to find some grilled cheese and orange juice instead of a gigantic feast. It was an improvement, but not enough of one. Instead, Harry had begun to make it a point to beat Draco to the kitchen every meal time to prevent him from servicing Harry anymore. Draco never complained about it, he never complained about anything, but it was obvious that the lack of labour for him to do was distressing him a lot. Harry felt bad almost, but it was for his own good that he was stopped.

Another habit that the blonde had was calling Harry ‘sir’; he didn’t say it too often, but when he did it was more than obvious. Sometimes he’d say it and slip away before Harry had the opportunity to correct him, and when Harry requested that he should just call him ‘Harry’, Draco would apologise, telling him it felt ‘unnatural’ to call him anything else and then end up saying it again later on. This was what Harry hated the most, he didn’t want to think that he was superior to Draco in any way, and  had never felt comfortable being looked up to even after the war.

“Harry,” Hermione, ever the voice of reason, started as Harry sprawled across her couch and unloaded the events that had been going on at Grimmauld. “An abusive relationship isn’t something someone gets over in a matter of weeks.”

“I know--”

“Just like war isn’t something someone gets over in a matter of weeks.”

He looked at her, their eyes meeting for more than just a few moments. As usual, Harry was the first to look away, unable to put up a fight. Hermione had been suggesting going to therapy for _ages_. She’d hint at it frequently enough; they’d had conversations about Healers he could go to, but nothing had ever come of it.

And now… he had Draco fighting his own demons and an apparently constant reminder that Harry wasn’t…

Wasn’t ready to do the same.

“What do you suggest?” Harry had asked and she produced a scroll for him to take with him before returning back to Grimmauld.

 _Perhaps if they’d become friends…._ Harry thought, still trying to catch his breath with music.

He’d have to become at least friends with Draco to stop it from happening though. Harry had thought that their conversations in St Mungo’s would have made this less awkward for them both, but it was as though they had never met before. A small cough interrupted Harry’s thoughts, and Harry looked up to see said blonde man standing in the doorway in the dark of the night.

“Si-Potter.” he said unsurely, “Are you...are you okay? I heard screaming and I got scared so I came here and well, yeah.”

 

Harry wasn’t so sure why Draco was all of a sudden so shy and awkward, but at least he was talking.

He could only stare for a moment before nodding slowly, “Yeah, yeah I’m fine I just had a nightmare is all.”

“Oh,” Draco said, frowning, “I had one too.”

“Do you wanna talk about it?” Harry suggested casually. It was quiet for a bit, but Harry couldn’t tell whether or not the blonde was adverse to the idea or not as the little bit of moonlight coming from the window would not reveal much on Draco’s face.

 

“No.” he heard before his bedroom door was slammed shut, and Harry was left in the dark, confused and a little scared.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello reader !!! :)  
> I hope you enjoyed this chapter, it took a while to get up, but here it is. Another great job done with Badluckvixen13, shoutout to her...
> 
> Leave kudos and comments as usual <3  
> ~Inkzy


	11. Healer Greengrass and Pasta

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little bit of development between Draco and Harry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, reader!!! :)  
> Welcome to another chapter of My Hero, I hope you're enjoying so far. This chapter was a bug to finish because I just haven't had the time but here it is, as promised. Shoutout to Badluckvixen13 for her help, once again, you're a star :)
> 
> Leave kudos and comments as usual <3  
> ~Inkzy

Harry looked up from his plate to glance across the table. Draco, as usual, didn’t look up, barely getting a few bites into his mouth at the agonizingly slow pace of forever. Harry swallowed the distressed sigh he wanted to make and prayed that the Healer would show up early for once so he wouldn’t have to feel so awkward and keep the questions behind his teeth. He still wasn’t sure how to interact with Draco, even just the way he stood and sat seemed like he had a huge bubble around him that nobody could get into. He was basically just the type of person that didn’t seem like he wanted to talk to anyone, or want anyone to talk to him. While this was starting to be normal, and almost comfortable, Harry knew that it wasn’t safe for Draco to be so lonely, especially while he was in his vulnerable state of mind. When he looked up again, Draco’s head parroted his, a weary dead look in his eye.

Nightmares…they had the tendency to make anyone jittery in the morning. Given the skeletons that they both had in their closet, he was beginning to rethink the arrangement--

A knock sounded on the door and he rose slightly, preparing to move and answer it.

“Why do you do that?” Draco asked quietly, staring at Harry curiously.

Harry frowned, “What?”

“Get up to answer the door,” Draco said. “You know Kreacher will answer it.”

Harry’s lips twitched, “Habit… I suppose.”

Draco licked his lips and went back to pretending to eat as Kreacher brought the Healer around the corner. She was tall with dark hair and a slender frame, grinning and looking at the two of them expectantly.

“Hello,” Harry said, addressing her politely before gesturing to the house elf. “Kreacher, could you show her to the usual parlor? Thank you.”

He lead the woman on and Harry waited until they were out of sight and earshot before he rounded the table to stand beside Draco, kneeling at his side.

“You… don’t have to pretend.” He said softly, fiddling with his hands.

Draco’s eyes didn’t move, his body stilled and Harry took another breath.

“I… I force myself to eat because I… It’s just a thing I do to make it through the day. A piece of normalcy... You don’t have to pretend that you want to eat if you don’t...just… promise me not to go several days without doing so?”

Draco ‘s eyes dragged up to Harry’s face timidly.

“Unless you’d like to end up back in a hospital room?”

Draco’s lips twitched and Harry managed a small smile. It isn’t much, but at least Draco seemed to have a bit of a sense of humor. He nodded shortly, unwilling to do much else.

 

“Is there… anything that you actually like to eat?” Harry asked, his tone sounding more suggestive and positive. “I mean...something you’d eat all the time if you could?”

Draco licked his lips and looked up. Harry waited, patient and smiling as Draco looked at him.

“I…” Draco swallowed again. “P-Pasta...cream-based pasta.”

Harry nodded with a grin, “We may just have more in common than Quidditch after all. Come on.”

Draco stood up and Harry took his plate, walking with him towards the parlor. He takes a few deep breaths before opening the grand door and slipping inside. And as soon as the door closed, Harry asked Kreacher if they could have cream-based pasta, whatever variety possible at least three times a week. The elf was passive as always and agreed. “For Draco,” Harry said, and Kreacher nodded before apparating away.

It felt like Harry was waiting for a jump over the edge of sanity or something. The minutes took centuries and the dark-haired man found himself re-arranging flowers and dusting the windowsills to pass the time. Draco emerged after about twenty minutes with a little more color in his face, but his eyes were still as empty as before. His pace was quick, perhaps too quick to be considered normal and before a minute had passed the blonde was already on the top floor, locking his door behind him.

The Healer followed after him, a concerned pout on her painted lips, arranging papers and quills in her arms. She seemed to forget Harry was there before he spoke and broke the silence.

“So… how is he?” He questioned nervously, looking at her expectantly.

“Oh,” she said a little startled as she grabbed her bag. “Everything is going just fine?”

Harry tilted his head, looking at her. Defence-trained eyes perused her form quickly, immediately disliking her lack of response. Why did she sound so unsure? Was she lying? She looked at him with a little too much heat and not enough professionalism for his tastes. Sure, she was pretty and he was pretty sure he at least _liked_ women, but she was supposed to be here to help Draco and inform him of progress and issues...

“Right…”

She smiled, with a probably fake cheerfulness, and disappeared, presumably back to St Mungo’s. Harry frowned, she had seemed good at first, always in high spirit and looking practical. Now she just seemed phony, a weird and almost robotic atmosphere surrounding her. He hadn’t even thought to think about how Draco would take to her, assuming that he would be in good hands with a qualified professional. He definitely wasn’t sure anymore.

About ten minutes later, Draco slipped out from his room and crept into the parlour, watching Harry curiously as the man spoke loudly into the fireplace. He was holding records in his hand, Healer Greengrass, a relative to the Greengrass family…

 _Probably not the best to create a safe space_ _for Draco to work through his trauma,_ Harry thought, shaking his head. The nurse handling the change in Healers seemed apologetic and promised to find someone else before Draco’s next appointment.

“You’re… changing my Healer?” Draco asked, confused, getting the gist of the conversation. Harry jumped, not having expected Draco to come down from his room.

Harry looked at him.

“Did you like her?”

He ducked his head, seeming scolded and a little uncomfortable.

“Did she make you uncomfortable, Draco?” Harry asked. The blonde swallowed but wouldn’t let a word pass his lips.

Harry turned towards him and watched him flinch as Harry placed a gentle hand on his shoulder and tilted his head to look at Draco’s face. He felt a bit horrible for getting that reaction but he kept his hand where it was.

“It’s okay to tell me,” Harry said. “Did she?”

Draco swallowed, but nodded eventually, flinching back as soon as he did. He could see sweat forming in beads on his forehead, and pale cheeks turning dark in embarrassment.

“That’s why I asked for a change,” Harry explained patiently. “Your sessions with the Healer are supposed to be comfortable and safe. They’re not supposed to add to your stress, okay?”

Draco nodded again, but more out of discomfort than agreement.

“You can tell me when things are uncomfortable for you.” Harry said lightly. “I’m… supposed to be helping you, not making things worse, but I can’t do that if you don’t tell me.”

Draco glanced at him and nodded stiffly, releasing a breath as Harry removed his hand from his shoulder before he turned towards the hallway to retreat to his room once more. The scarcity of the blonde’s progress was becoming less threatening.

Later that night, they had garlic and cream pasta with just enough chicken to make it feel like a meal. It wasn’t exactly something that Harry treated himself to often, but it was nice to see how comfortable Draco was becoming with eating, and how he had put a bit of his guard down, even if it was only for the evening. The air was warm and toasty, but not unpleasantly so, and the only sound that could be heard was the clinking of knives and forks on their plates. Harry looked up every so often, lips twitching and Draco followed suit, a relaxed expression on his lips as they ate in a comfortable quiet.

Finally they were getting somewhere.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, reader!!! :)  
> Welcome to another chapter of My Hero, I hope you're enjoying so far. This chapter was a bug to finish because I just haven't had the time but here it is, as promised. Shoutout to Badluckvixen13 for her help, once again, you're a star :)
> 
> Leave kudos and comments as usual <3  
> ~Inkzy


	12. About the Case...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ron visits Harry about the case so far...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello reader!!!  
> Welcome to another chapter, I hope you enjoy it :)  
> This one took a while but hey, at least it's up. If it weren't for Badluckvixen13 this chapter probably would have taken another 3 months to be posted so shoutout to her.  
> If there's any issues or plotholes or anything that needs attention brought to could you please let me know, that would be so helpful.
> 
> Leave kudos and comments and kudos as usual <3  
> ~Inkzy

“You look like shite, mate.”

Harry and Ron were sat in the cosy kitchen of Grimmauld Place. It was grey outside, but quite warm in general. The house was quiet, and if it weren’t for the dirty mug on the side that Draco had used just earlier, Harry would have had no idea that anybody else was living there.

If there was anything to be said for Ron’s complete lack of filter, it was that he was always (usually) honest. It was as though he hadn’t changed at all since when they were in school together. If Harry had the energy to give him a comeback, he would have. As it stood, it was a miracle that he was holding himself upright with how little he’d slept over the last few days. 

“You and Malfoy fighting?” he asked casually.

Harry snorted, “No.”

Ron narrowed his eyes in response, probably expecting a sarcastic line to follow.

On the contrary, him and Draco seemed to actually be hedging towards getting along… even if most of the time they spend in each other’s presence is in the middle of the night, drinking warm soothing tea and trying not to talk about the large Erumphent in the room. It wasn’t friendship yet, but it was progress for sure. He hadn’t yet managed to get Draco to talk about what was clearly affecting them most.

 

Nightmares…

The nightmares were back. 

Darker and longer than ever.

 

“I just haven’t been sleeping,” he said with a sigh. “What’s going on?”

“Oh,” Ron started digging in his robes in his own clumsy way. “I just came to talk to you about the case and return this.”

Harry frowned, seeing the hauntingly familiar length of wood on the table. It was an elegant wand and looked every bit the possession of its owner…

At least the Draco he’d known in school anyway. 

_ His wand had been in that house all this time? _ Harry thought, confused. He hadn’t even asked where Draco was keeping his wand, and why he didn’t seem to have it. From what he remembered, Draco was pretty good with a wand. He’d grown up wizarding so the very idea of  _ not _ having his wand made a mess of Harry’s insides. 

If he wasn’t queasy from his nightmares, then he was definitely queasy now. 

“We found it stashed in a secret compartment,” Ron said, plopping down in a chair with a sigh. “No idea how long, but I couldn’t believe Malfoy was walking around without a wand. Ridiculous if you ask me.”

Harry couldn’t help but agree. He wouldn’t be able to last a day without his wand, he even got uneasy when it was just on the other side of a room. How did Draco last so long? And why?

Harry swallowed and looked at it. He wasn’t convinced that it had been completely by choice, but perhaps it had been. After all, there had been a month that the thought of picking up his own wand sent him into a panicked fit and it wasn’t as if Draco wasn’t still capable of doing magic…

_ But to what extent? _ He rubbed his eyes and reached for the pot of tea beside him. 

“There’s also… a problem.”

“What sort of problem?” Harry asked, not looking up as he poured in milk and sugar. 

“Well,” Ron began, sounding stressed, “we haven’t been getting enough... substance for us to take the case forward properly.”

Harry raised an eyebrow, “What do you mean?” He had assumed that this would be dealt with quickly and accordingly. He hated fiff faff and paperwork, and it was a bit obvious who was the victim and who was the criminal here.

“We know that this is hard for Malfoy, and we understand his situation, but…” the redhead trailed off.

“But,” Harry said dangerously, feeling very defensive all of a sudden.

Ron gulped, “We can’t do anything about getting Flint locked up unless he talks to us about what happened. We were just going to ship him off, but then somebody came in and made an anonymous statement, so we’re going to have to develop this further and have a hearing.”

“What? Why? What could possibly excuse what he did? This is pathetic, Draco isn’t ready for a hearing, he barely wants to leave his room! How am I going to get him to speak out to the wizengamot? We all know how this is going to end, Flint’s going to find some loophole and end up walking off free!”

Ron watched Harry explode, looking dismal. He didn’t like the situation much either.

“I’ll pop round tomorrow to talk to him, if you could convince him to co-operate that would be good, but if he doesn’t, well, let’s just hope he does.” he said, all too unsurely. He got up from the chair and saluted Harry casually before walking out the door.

A few seconds later, his head popped back around the door frame and he added hastily, “Oh yeah, Kingsley said to not bother coming back to work and that it was obvious you made your mind up.” and then Ron was gone.

Harry sipped his tea loosely, a calm smile on his lips.

His mind was a peace before he remembered what Ron had said about Draco, and how he’d have to get him to talk. Aurors were usually quite rough and direct when it came to questioning, and if Draco was struggling to talk to a professional who was paid to be empathetic towards his pain, how was he supposed to get him to talk to an auror?

He groaned, this was a hellhole. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello reader!!!  
> Welcome to another chapter, I hope you enjoy it :)  
> This one took a while but hey, at least it's up. If it weren't for Badluckvixen13 this chapter probably would have taken another 3 months to be posted so shoutout to her.  
> If there's any issues or plotholes or anything that needs attention brought to could you please let me know, that would be so helpful.
> 
> Leave kudos and comments and kudos as usual <3  
> ~Inkzy


	13. Magical Mishap

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry finds that Draco can't do magic anymore...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello reader!!! :)  
> Welcome to another chapter, this took a long time, I know, but things have been a bit hard for me at the moment. Badluckvixen13 has helped me out which I appreciate a lot. I have a little nagging feeling in my brain that I've made a mistake somewhere in this fic (plot-wise) so if anyone can spot anything then please let me know down below so I can get it sorted. I hope you enjoy this chapter, I know that I enjoyed writing it. All comments and criticism are welcome, unless you are a troll/spammer of course...
> 
> Leave kudos and comments as usual <3  
> ~Inkzy

“Draco,” he started as they ate. The other looked up and took in Harry’s face before setting his fork down and preparing himself for the worst.

“Is… this the part where you tell me to leave?” he asked timidly.  

Harry blinked, choking on his food and reaching for water. Shaking his head he thumped his chest, trying to dislodge the bit of pasta from his lungs. He had not been expecting that question whatsoever and it had completely caught him off guard.

“No, no… Merlin, no,” he wheezed, before reaching for his glass of water and gulping down just enough to make it easier to breathe.

Draco seemed to have heard him, but didn’t seem to believe the words. Instead, the blonde swallowed, looked down at his plate and fiddled with his pasta. Harry had never seen anyone look more uncomfortable in his life.

“Do you- do you want payment?”

In that moment, Harry decided that trying to eat and have this conversation was going to kill him, so he pushed his plate and cup aside, and looked at Draco.

“No,” he said. “I didn’t offer up Grimmauld for any nefarious or ulterior purpose. I meant what I said.” Harry said as patently as he could, looking the other man in his eye.

Still slightly discomforted, Draco’s eyes searched his for a moment, a cool, questioning, and confused grey on his steady green. They were rather lovely if he was honest, open, and far more expressive than he remembered from their school days. Different than the malicious look he was used to seeing, but definitely a better different.

“Okay.”

“First,” he said, digging into his cloak to pull out the wand box he’d placed Draco’s wand in. It was matte black, decorated in silver swirls, a strangely intricate and elaborate design for a wand box, though Harry thought this suited a Malfoy perfectly. “The Aurors found this to return to you.”

Draco’s eyes looked at the box with an odd disinterest as Harry set it between them carefully. He didn’t make a move to take it, instead just folding his hands under the table and staring at it as though it was something completely foreign.

“It’s… rather important for a wizard to have his wand--” Harry began to explain before he was harshly cut off by resounding words.

“I can’t.”

Harry frowned, “What do you mean?”

“I can’t...do magic anymore.”

Harry’s eyes widened, “What?” He could not believe what he had just heard. Draco gave him a wry look, “Are you deaf as well as stupidly noble? I said I _can’t_ do magic any more.”

This was the boldest Harry had heard him speak since before he had found him in that house. He wasn’t really sure how he was supposed to respond, he knew that starting an argument or a fight with Draco would completely backtrack the progress they had made, so he took a breath and thought about how to tackle this responsibly.

“Can’t or won’t.”

Draco sighed defeatedly, glaring at Harry before shakily reaching out his arm to take the ornate box sitting between them. He blew out a harsh breath and opened the box slowly, peering cautiously inside as though he wasn’t sure what he was going to find inside. Long pale fingers picked up the wand. All was calm and peaceful for a moment before bright sparks shot from the tip in a huge explosion, startling the both of them. Harry dove aside at the wild shocks of lightning that splintered around the room, quite quickly thanks to his auror training and general instinctive sense. Pots and pans were flying everywhere, burning holes in the walls. The chairs were thrown repeatedly to the ceiling, crashing into pieces and the doors banged open and closed repeatedly in a frenzy. Harry was underneath the table and shouted at the top of his lungs until Draco let the wand go and it clattered back into the box.

Immediately, all of the chaos halted and many items fell to the ground with a loud crash, causing Harry to cringe. Said man looked around his now trashed kitchen and sighed in relief, still breathing heavily from the adrenaline of the moment.

After he had calmed down, he took the time to assess Draco who was glued to the same spot as before, the only evidence that he had been there to witness what had just happened was from the now slightly mussed look of his hair, as his face was numb and empty, eyes so full but empty at the same time; he looked terrified. Harry had seen that look on himself quite a few times, and even just the thought about how terrible Draco must be feeling punched a cold feeling into his chest.

 

“Draco…”

“Yes,” he said blankly. “The great Slytherin, Draco Malfoy, heir to one of the wealthiest wizarding families in the entire country, destined on for greatness--unable to do magic. You must get a kick out of this, Potter. _He_ certainly did.”

Harry blinked, swallowing his initial reaction to listen to Draco’s words.

 

Marcus… or Lucius?

 

Either way, it was a topic that they had never broached before and considering what he had to tell Draco about the development of the case, it was a good sign.

 _Pull out that little bit of tact you managed to salvage, Harry,_ he thought and stood up.

“Draco,” he started sincerely, approaching him gently. “I’m not getting a _kick_ out of anything. I just want to help.”

Draco’s face went red in the cheeks, seeming quite embarrassed, his grey eyes flashing like a knife in the dark as he stood.

“Help?” He asked darkly. “Help?! You can’t even help yourself, Harry-Bloody-Potter! You helped save the wizarding world-- that doesn’t make you able to _help_ anyone now.”

Harry swallowed the words pushing at his teeth and watched Draco glaring at him, the tremor in his eyes, his limbs, how… _Terrified_ he seemed to be beneath that anger and regret. It was a sad thing to watch.

“Draco,” he said, his voice soft… too soft to be a reply to Draco’s anger.

It makes the man draw back with a gasp, flinch, and his insides twist.

 _No,_ he thought. _Don’t sound like that._

_I don’t des--_

“What happened?”

Draco blinked, his jaw trembled and his eyes glazed over. The anger seemed to melt out of him leaving nothing but tears and sorrow as he sunk back into his chair. Tears came easily, but no words came with them. It was difficult to just watch someone break down like that, there must be a deep-rooted issue that was bothering Draco.

Harry swiftly put the lid back on the box and pushed it away from them both. As this kitchen was still a mess, he snapped his fingers and ordered Kreacher to return it to its orderly state before guiding Draco from the chair and towards the parlor where Harry could get a blanket around his shoulders and a hot cup of tea in his hands. He didn’t really know what he was doing, but it was the only thing he could think of. Draco was still sniffing and crying when Harry conjured a thick warm tartan blanket and draped it around his shoulders. He then rushed back into the kitchen to put the kettle on where Kreacher was sweeping the floor, glaring daggers at him.

When the tea was ready, he went back to the parlour where he found Draco who looked a lot more comfortable, dabbing his eyes and cheeks with a familiar green and white handkerchief. Deciding not to force anything on him, Harry just put it on the mahogany coffee table in front of him and sat next to him, not too close, not too far. They both watched the blazing fire.

After a few moments of silence, a small hand reached out to grab the steaming mug, and it was pulled back to Draco’s lips. He sipped quietly, in a posh way that Harry probably couldn’t achieve, and kept it close to him.  

“I… I couldn’t even pick up my wand after the war was over.” Harry said hesitantly, wanting to break the peaceful quiet.

Draco looked up from his mug, watching the flicker of warm light over the other’s silhouette. He hummed, not wanting to say anything. He took another delicate sip, eyes wandering over the surface of the drink hungrily.

“But I was going to be an Auror, who ever heard of an Auror who couldn’t do magic?” Harry asked derisively. “I think… Kingsley knew. He let me do as much as I could without really needing a wand-- strategy meetings, morale boosts, interviews, etc.” He’d been confused at the time, but grateful. “Then… I didn’t have a choice. Ron and I got attacked on the way to headquarters and it was fight or be killed all over again.”

Harry let out a breath, remembering the night. He didn’t remember much of it besides Ron had been hit from behind and for a long moment he’d been thrown back into the war. His wand was out and he was hexing the figures who meant to take everything from him. It felt a bit like casting the Cruciatus curse at Bellatrix in the Department of Mysteries all over again.

“When I’d come to, I was at St. Mungo’s with Hermione sitting at Ron’s bedside, waiting for him to wake up.”

Harry sighed and turned to towards him to regard him.

“If you think that I live in Grimmauld because I… because I like this big empty house… You’re wrong. If you think I like feeling so alone and scared all of the time, then you have the wrong idea. I know that people say I’m the ‘Saviour of the Wizarding World’ and you must think that I’m stuck up my arse about it, but I’m really not. I hate the titles, and the articles, and the rumours and the paps and just about everything that comes with being who I am. I have to hide all the time and I can’t trust people who I thought were my friends and I can’t live my life the way I always dreamed to. The war is over, but I’m still suffering. The reason I’m saying all this is because, it’s because I just want to prove to you that people can move on from these things. You should have seen me after the war, I was a wreck, and I thought I’d never get better, but I’ve already made so much progress, and I can now use my wand again. You can do it too, I know you can.”

Draco’s eyes were watering and after a few moments, he nodded.

 

“I’ll try.”

 

Harry smiled fondly and said, “Thank you. And also, you don’t have to keep up appearances around me, you can enjoy your tea, you know.”

Draco looked at him and said, “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Potter.” But then smiled secretly, relaxed his mouth and finished his mug in a large gulp, slouching and wiping his lips with the back of his arm.

 

“Will you talk to Ron about what happened, today?”

Harry had thought the question was too much too soon, but Draco took a deep breath and nodded.

  
“Yes.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello reader!!! :)  
> Welcome to another chapter, this took a long time, I know, but things have been a bit hard for me at the moment. Badluckvixen13 has helped me out which I appreciate a lot. I have a little nagging feeling in my brain that I've made a mistake somewhere in this fic (plot-wise) so if anyone can spot anything then please let me know down below so I can get it sorted. I hope you enjoy this chapter, I know that I enjoyed writing it. All comments and criticism are welcome, unless you are a troll/spammer of course...
> 
> Leave kudos and comments as usual <3  
> ~Inkzy


	14. Stay

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A scene of affection between Harry and Draco...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello reader!!! :)  
> Welcome to another chapter of My Hero! I hope you like this one, I tried to progress their relationship a bit more. If you think it's too much, too soon, then please let me know so I can adjust this and make it slower. Sorry for the wait, I know it takes a while to get the chapters up and this isn't very long. But nonetheless, I hope you enjoy it. Feel free to share with any of your friends or family (though I'm not sure why you'd want to share with your family XD) and don't be afraid to leave any criticism. Do you think I should get a beta-reader? Once again, shoutout to Badluckvixen13 for her marvelous work...
> 
> Leave kudos and comments as usual <3  
> ~Inkzy

“Hey,” Harry greeted, walking into the parlor where Draco had been hiding since Ron and the other Auror left. He was still wrapped in his blanket and was staring at the floor blankly. It was difficult to tell what he was thinking from his expression  but considering that Harry was still in possession of Draco’s wand and the case had made a shift towards truly being resolved, he could guess.

It was god that they wouldn't resort to truth serum to get the information like Ron suggested. Not only was it a complete invasion of privacy and a violation of what little trust that Draco was trying to build for people at large, but it was also downright counterintuitive for his recovery. The legal proceedings were simply cathartic, but they didn't really affect Draco’s path to healing.

 _Until he’s ready to talk about it, nothing has changed,_ Hermione explained glaring at Ron for even suggesting truth serum for a trauma victim.

Harry took a steady breath and shut his eyes briefly, “How...How did it go?” he asked softly, attempting to catch Draco’s gaze. However, pale shiny eyes were trained stubbornly downward. He made no movement to suggest that he was planning on replying, and Harry had assumed he was just going to get ignored before lips shakily open and form the words, “It went fine.”

There was a lot more to be said, but Harry didn’t need to hear it to know.

“I wanted to let you know that you have a new healer now, his name is Healer Higgleston and he specialises with patients with PTSD. Your appointments are on Mondays and Wednesdays. Is that okay?”

Draco shrugged unhappily and muttered, “I don’t exactly have a choice, do I?”

Harry was beginning to get frustrated, he knew that the blonde was suffering, and he knew that it was hard, but he was acting like a teeanger.

“Look, Draco, this is difficult for you, and I understand that, but you’re in a dark place right now and unless you accept the help that is given to you, it’s going to take a long time for you to recover, or you may not even recover at all. These appointments are going to help the both of us because it’s really important that you get better.”

Draco got teary-eyed, a sight that Harry found hard to see. He could practically hear Hermione scolding him for his lack of tact and empathy.

“I’m really sorry, sir, I understand that I’m causing trouble for you and that you want me out of your home as soon as possible!”

Harry stared at him, startled. Of all the things that he expected Draco to say, that was not one of them.

 _Empathy, Harry,_ Hermione said. _Empathy._

“Draco, that’s not what I mean. And don’t call me sir, call me Harry, or Potter, or anything, just not sir!”

Draco’s state worsened and he stood up quickly to leave, “I’m really sorry, please don’t be mad, I’ll leave right now if you want, I’m so sorry!” He rushed frantically and began speeding towards the front door.

The look on his face was heartbreaking for Harry, he thought that Draco was getting better, but it appeared that not much had changed. The raven-haired man chased after him, watching at the end of the hallway as Draco fumbled with the door, too trapped in his panic to properly open it and escape, his breath coming in heaving pants as if Harry was chasing him down with a malicious intent.

 _Is that… is that what Draco thinks?_ _Is that what he feels all the time?_

Harry blinked, watching his breathing get more distressed the longer it took him to fumble the door. Did Draco simply think that Harry was biding his time to abuse him, to kick him out, to add Draco to his list of accomplishments? Was he living in a constant state of fear, doing what he had to in order to lessen the pain? Was that what Marcus turned him into? This scared person who…

Couldn't even open a door in his panic?

“Draco.” Harry murmured softly. It was his prime instinct to just go and grab him, but he knew that such actions could possibly trigger a dissettling reaction from him. Said man froze, the word tickling something inside of him, and his body stilled.

 _Please_ , he thought. _Don’t say my name like that..._

Marcus… Marcus used to sound that sweet and even though that honey was usually laced with venom, venom enough to make him give up his wand… it had been worlds better than the venom the wizarding world had to offer.

Yet here Harry was… the current symbol of the wizarding world… helping him maybe? Encouraging him with a voice like honey…

_Don't believe it Draco, you know better._

Lucius said his name like that sometimes, right before the whistle of his cane or some harsh hex that left no mark except for those on his psyche.

Marcus…

His past boyfriends…

Had it been everyone he'd ever known? Even his mother with her fretting and sugar coated threat delivery from Lucius.

What venom did the Boy Who Lived Twice have for him?

Harry edged towards him carefully, bright eyes widened in something that looked like a mix of epiphany and concern. A warm, calloused hand found its way to a pale, cold small one, pulling it away from the door handle. Draco flinched slightly at the touch but as a kind soothing thumb gently caressed porcelain skin, he slowly relaxed, his breathing slowed and he stared at Harry. Harry moved closer behind him and wrapped both of his arms around his slight frame and took both of Draco’s hand in his own, massaging them affectionately. The man’s insides purred contently at the perfection of the embrace. It had been so long since anyone had held him this way, and it felt so good...He couldn't remember being held this way… perhaps when he was a baby and needed consoling. He marvelled at the feel of Harry’s hands and skin, soaking in the sensations and living in that moment only to exist in Harry’s arms. His eyes drifted shut and he sighed, breathing in a heavenly scent of cologne and...chocolate? There was a peace that he just couldn't explain.

“Draco,” Harry repeated, resting his head in the crease of the other man’s head and shoulder, nuzzling there. The vibrations of his voice sent Draco deeper into his state of tranquility. He wasn’t sure why Draco had thought that he wanted him to go, if he did, then he wouldn’t have offered him to stay in the first place. Then again, abuse does unravel ones logic, and coat the brain in a frigid state of constant alertness and warped way of thinking. He’d have to try something, to get him to put faith in Harry’s words, otherwise they’d forever be moving on nowhere.

“I want you to breathe. Please don’t think I would ever want you out of here. I...I like having you here with me and I really want to help you get better. I'm sorry I scared you.”

Draco was crying, feeling awfully confused at what was going on in his head. He didn’t know how to feel or what he should think. Fireworks were going off in his heart and alarms were ringing in his head. Could he trust Harry? He wanted to think that he couldn’t, that Harry was purposely trying to exploit him and take advantage of his vulnerable state of mind. Draco didn’t want to let anybody in ever again...But Harry had been nothing but good to him, understanding and warm and kind. When he thought about it, there was no way he could leave Grimmauld Place. The walls and floors had become something akin to a... _home_.

 _I need to stay..._ he thought. _I want to stay._

Here with Harry, Kreacher, and the old quiet of Grimmauld.

“Stay?” a familiar voice whispered mildly, but the syllable punched Draco right in the chest.

 _Yes_.

“Okay.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello reader!!! :)  
> Welcome to another chapter of My Hero! I hope you like this one, I tried to progress their relationship a bit more. If you think it's too much, too soon, then please let me know so I can adjust this and make it slower. Sorry for the wait, I know it takes a while to get the chapters up and this isn't very long. But nonetheless, I hope you enjoy it. Feel free to share with any of your friends or family (though I'm not sure why you'd want to share with your family XD) and don't be afraid to leave any criticism. Do you think I should get a beta-reader? Once again, shoutout to Badluckvixen13 for her marvelous work...
> 
> Leave kudos and comments as usual <3  
> ~Inkzy


	15. Draco's nightmare...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another nightmare...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello reader!!!!! :)  
> Welcome to another chapter of My Hero. Damn it's been a good couple of weeks since I updated. Usually it's more regular, but my younger sister attempted suicide recently, and if any of you have lost or nearly lost someone to suicide, I'm sure you'll understand the pain and trauma I've been suffering these past few weeks. But I will keep to writing this fic, and I know it's not that good of a chapter, but I'm in a dark place at the moment. Ah well, I hope you enjoy anyway.  
> Any comments/criticism is perfectly welcome, don't be too harsh though. A big thank you to Badluckvixen13 for helping me finish this chapter too.
> 
> Leave kudos and comments as usual <3

“Don't touch me!” Draco yelled hysterically, pale eyes huge with fear and distrust. He hid defensively behind his blankets and stared at the man by his bedside who was frantically trying to calm him. Harry drew back and held his hands up. Remaining still, he watched Draco get a hold of himself, wiping the sweat and tears from his face. His head and throat were burning, clockwork in his head ticking like mad.

The trial was coming up and ever since he was told that he had to be present for it, Draco had gotten worse and worse. Healer Higgleston told him that it was normal, and that the thought of the hearing would most likely ‘spook’ Draco back into his shell. The added stress of facing his abuser would upset whatever progress Draco had been making and it had.

“It's only me Draco,”Harry said calmly. “You were having a nightmare.”

Draco flinched at the word and said nothing, shaking in bed, hands flexing in the sheets. He wanted to disappear, he wanted Harry to stop looking at him with those pitying eyes, he wanted for the sweat on his skin to dry and he wanted to sleep peacefully and without disturbance throughout the night.

This was killing him. Very slowly.

It was like a monster that crept in the shadows and gobbled him up when his eyes were closed. It wasn’t fair that he was left this way, left to suffer without a hope in the world.

Then again… it was his fault wasn't it?

Draco shuddered at the dark thought. They had been getting darker and ringing more true as of late. His family, his past… Harry.

_ You don't need me to tell you what you already know, Draco.  _ Healer Higgleston’s voice said in his ear.  _ You need me to tell you what you don't want to hear. _

Draco rubbed his face an took the chance to  look up where he saw a pale, gentle face bathed in moonlight, dark hair and sparkling eyes.  Harry was there.

It was just Harry and, as much as they antagonized one another in school, Harry was really the only person he had left in the world on his side.

“Yes.” Draco said airily, and he wasn’t entirely sure of what else he could say. He felt insecure with the way Harry was looking at him. He felt small. 

Marcus…

Marcus used to make him feel that way. So did Lucius. He shuddered at seeing either of them again in life. His father was avoidable at least, but Marcus was not. 

_ The trial _ , he thought.  _ Everyone will know how-- _

Pathetic? Weak? He was sure his subconscious couldn't get anymore creative than those two.

_ Desperate. _

“Do you-- do you want me to stay here with you, do you want to talk about it?” Harry asked sympathetically, gesturing subtly with his hands. Draco noticed that Harry used his hands a lot. The blonde contemplated his offer for a few moments, opening and closing his mouth nervously.

_ Whore. _

“No.” he decidedly abruptly, putting his mouth in a straight line. It oddly reminded Harry of McGonagall.

Harry nodded, visibly disappointed and turned to leave. However, just as he was about to walk through Draco’s bedroom door, a soft voice whispered, “Wait.”

Harry looked at him as though to prompt him further.

“Yeah?” he asked.

“Can you-- can you please stay, that’s if it won’t be any bother that is?” Draco stumbled anxiously, fiddling with his hands and flushing in the darkness.

It seemed forever before Harry responded, “Okay.”

Harry cautiously approached the bed and sat down on it hesitantly. Draco lay back down and edged closer to Harry so that he was lying right beside him. 

Harry smiled drowsily as he watched the blonde quickly fall back asleep. It was strange given how adamant Draco usually was about not touching him that his presence was enough to soothe him back to sleep. Before long, a calloused hand found its way carding through feathery, fair locks and a gentle sweet thumb caressed baby soft skin. Draco’s body seemed to melt into the cushion and it made Harry wonder about Draco’s aversion to touch.

_ No Harry, _ he thought, hearing Hermione’s voice in his head.  _ An aversion to pain. _

Harry should know what it was to fear touch because it usually caused pain. 

Harry wasn’t sure how long he watched him rest, but it felt like a lifetime before he actually got back up and returned to his own room.  With a dull ache in his heart, he sat on the edge of his bed and breathed.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello reader!!!!! :)  
> Welcome to another chapter of My Hero. Damn it's been a good couple of weeks since I updated. Usually it's more regular, but my younger sister attempted suicide recently, and if any of you have lost or nearly lost someone to suicide, I'm sure you'll understand the pain and trauma I've been suffering these past few weeks. But I will keep to writing this fic, and I know it's not that good of a chapter, but I'm in a dark place at the moment. Ah well, I hope you enjoy anyway.  
> Any comments/criticism is perfectly welcome, don't be too harsh though. A big thank you to Badluckvixen13 for helping me finish this chapter too.
> 
> Leave kudos and comments as usual <3


	16. Hermione and Draco

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione and Draco have a little chat in Grimmauld Place...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello reader!!! :)  
> Welcome to another chapter!! I hope you like this one, I really enjoyed writing this one up, though most of the work was done by my co-author on this one. If you have anything to say, just drop a comment down below and I usually get back quick. I'm still struggling from what happened with my sister but I'm really grateful for the comments I got last time supporting me. You guys are so patient and I'm really thankful...
> 
> Leave kudos and comments as usual <3

“Hello Draco,” Hermione’s chipper voice greeted him as he entered the dining room. She looked far too exhausted for her voice to be genuine. There were dark circles under her eyes and stress lines in her face. Lord knows why she worked so hard all the time, you’d think she’d give herself a break after basically bringing the downfall of the Dark Lord. She had a beautiful face, but it’d age too fast.

“Granger…” he said glancing around. “I don't suppose Weasley is here with you?”

Hermione was okay in Draco’s opinion, she was civil and sweet, far too intelligent to be with the likes of a Weasley. It made no sense to him.

“Nope,” she said sitting at the table as if it was the most normal thing in the world. She slumped in her chair, allowing herself to breathe for a moment before recollecting herself. She looked comfortable, a change from how Draco had seen her in school and the ministry.

 _They are friends, Draco._ As alien as the term was for him, he did understand that it meant they spent a lot of time in each other's spaces.

“Potter’s grown sick of me has he?” He didn’t know why he was being so negative, he knew that he should at least make an effort to be nicer, even if it took all of the energy it had in him. Why wouldn’t he expect Potter to be sick of him anyway? It wasn’t as though he meant anything to him. Draco was probably just a small part of his life, his existence probably didn’t even cross Harry’s mind in the day unless it had to. He was a burden. Unnecessary and troublesome.

Hermione snorted, “Not in the slightest. I told him to go away so he could take Ron off my hands.”

Draco snorted, “And you volunteered to stay here?”

Hermione smirked, crossing her arms challengingly, “Have you heard Ron talk about Quidditch?”

Draco winced, “No.”

 

“Well,” she started off enthusiastically, “Imagine a teenage girl fawning over their latest crush and then add a heaping dose of Love Potion.”

“How strong?” Draco replied quickly.

“Amortentia that's been sitting for a year.”

Draco found himself laughing heartily at the image described to him and Hermione returned her gaze to her cup before resuming drinking her tea. She didn’t move to leave or invite him to sit with her. Instead, her cool brown eyes returned to the paper on the table, staring at it indifferently. He guessed that Granger disliked the media just as he did, everyday useless piles of lies were printed out for gullible eyes to devour. Petty stories and propaganda galore seemed to just pop out of the prophet. It was rotten, even more rotten than muggle television.

Kreacher appeared noisily in his usual fashion and pulled out a chair for Draco, fussing at him to sit and eat whatever the elf had prepared. He didn’t feel hungry, but fighting with Kreacher was like trying to lick peanut butter from the roof of your mouth, it was near impossible!

“You is growing thinner, Master Draco.” he commented begrudgingly, examining the blonde’s form.

Draco ducked his head at the slight admonishment and picked up his fork to eat. He all of a sudden felt even more conscious about his appearance. How could anyone look at him? He was disgusting…

It was getting harder and harder to eat everyday, he always felt ill afterwards, but Harry took good care of him and made sure he had at least two meals per day.

Kreacher vanished as quickly as he came with a pop, leaving Hermione the chance to observe Draco. She wondered about him and how he and Harry were coping. While he was much thinner than he had been in school, he was not as thin as when he'd first come to Grimmauld. Harry had seemed to put on a bit more weight too, which was part of the reason she sent him off with Ron. Harry was a good guy and was no doubt looking after Draco just fine, it was just that he was also in pain, how could he deal with Draco’s hardships as well as his own? Harry needed some time to talk about the case and the ordeal and she had a feeling that Draco needed to see someone he didn't see as a threat to his already fragile ego.

“So… are you here to gloat?”

She looked up at him.

“Rub it in my face perhaps?” he sounded more unsure this time.

Hermione set her cup down, “Is that what you want me to do?” Draco was acting like a teenager, acting as though the world was out to get him.

Said man’s eyes narrowed, “What the bloody hell does that mean, Granger?”

“I'm asking if it would be easier if I was here to gloat rather than to help.”

 

“I don't need your pity.”

“I don't pity you, Draco,” Hermione said simply. “You aren't a person to be pitied.”

Draco slumped, eager to get the last word, “Then you're babysitting.”

 

“I pity weak people,” Hermione said. “For if you stand for nothing you fall for everything. I don't see you falling for anything. You are hurt, yes. You're down on your luck, yes, but bloody hell you are stronger than you give yourself credit for to stand up for yourself.” she told him passionately.

“Stand up for myself?” Draco asked. “Are you mental?”

“You could have gone back to the manor,” she said, interrupting him slightly. She was proving to be a very dominant woman.

He swallowed, flinching at the thought.

 

“You could have killed yourself a million times over by now. You could have let Marcus snap your wand.”

Draco stared, “How do you--”

“Who do you think coaxed Harry back into using his wand--Ronald?”

Draco frowned, “What does that mean?”

“It means that Harry went a month unable to even _touch_ his wand. It was pretty terrifying. He couldn't leave the house without it for fear of being attacked, but he wouldn't pick it up either.” She shook her head. It had been painful to watch him practically driving himself crazy.

“What… happened?” Draco asked curiously in a small voice.

Hermione looked at him hardly and licked her lips, “Harry… snapped. That's the best way to describe it. The years of the war, the running, and everything else just caught up with him too fast.”

“How did he…”

Draco looked back at his plate with a breath. He felt the wards shifting as she slid a pamphlet across the table to him.

“He goes here,” she said as Ron’s voice drifted down the hall towards them, footsteps becoming audible.

“‘Mione?! Are you still here?” Harry called loudly as Draco pulled the pamphlet towards him and tucked it away.

“In the dining room with Draco.” she shouted back, just as loudly.

God, Draco hated it when people shouted, it was unnecessary and frightening, he fought hard to stop himself from shivering. Ron cried out in pain as Harry rounded the corner, smiling as he found the two of them at the table. Draco went back to eating steadily.

Harry looked around, smiling brightly, “No burns in the ceiling. That's good!”

 

Hermione scoffed, “Goodness Harry, did you expect Draco to hex me just because we're sharing a table? I don't think you give him enough credit.”

“Wouldn't blame you if you did,” Ron said, limping towards the table. “She can be a right pain when she wants.”

 

_You know you can be a right pain, Draco. Wouldn't be surprised if someone hexed you on the street._

 

Draco frowned deeply, “Don't talk about her that way.” he said lowly, earning shocked looks from the people in the room. Hermione’s eyes widened and Ron’s jaw dropped open. Harry only looked at Draco with a soft smile that made his insides do a flip; he wanted Harry to look at him like that again. It was the most life in his voice he had heard in a long time.

 

“You're her boyfriend, aren't you?” Draco asked, trying to explain himself. “You think it's endearing to treat her and talk to her like that? If anything, Weasley, you’re the pain.”

Harry blinked and glanced at Hermione’s face which was lifted in surprised. Ron looked almost ashamed, letting out incoherent noises of disbelief before spitting, “Jeez, didn't think I'd be getting relationship advice from _you,_ Malfoy.”

Draco bowed his head once more, a cold sadness filling him up again. Before Hermione could say anything, Harry whirled on him.

“Ron, don't be an arse!”

Draco looked at Harry in wonder, shocked that Harry was actually defending him. Hermione just smiled, watching the both of them.

“Let's take a deep breath. Ronald, we're leaving. Harry, thank you for entertaining him.” she looked and sounded satisfied. She sought Draco’s gaze before grinning at him friendily, “Thank you, Draco. I hope to see you again soon.”

He nodded, unsure of what else to do and watched them go, Hermione pushing Ron out of the door.

“I'm sorry,” Draco said. “I shouldn't have--”

“Ron was being an arse,” Harry cut in. “You were right to say something. I keep warning him that he can't just say the first thing out of his mouth all the time.”

Draco swallowed as Harry sat down beside him and poured himself a cup of tea. Everything was peaceful and warm for a moment. Harry coughed quietly and then spoke.

 

“How are you feeling?”

 

“Like I'm facing my ex in court in a few days… and the entire wizarding world is going to know how pathetic I am.”

Harry licked his lips, “I think… it's more likely that they'll see how pathetic your ex is.”

Draco just stared at his plate, not wanting to do much else.

 

“What happened with your ex, the Weasley girl...Jenny?”

“Ginny,” Harry corrected and shrugged half-heartedly. “It just didn't work out. Truth be told, not sure if it was ever anything more than passing.”

Draco nodded, “And… no one's managed to bag the Boy Who Lived?”

The raven-haired man chuckled, “I'm only that in the papers. Most people don't want to meet Harry.”

“Why?”

Harry looked into his tea, wondering if be some chance he'd see the Grimm again and be reunited with Sirius sooner rather than later. He didn’t know why Sirius’ death still came to his mind. _Sunshine,_ he thought hopelessly and shook the thought away.

“Harry is dark,” he said slowly, eyes going empty and glistening. ”Broken… maybe beyond repair. There are many things wrong with him, things that the average person wouldn’t understand. He's not exactly a people person, don't you see where he lives?”

“You know, I think you’re really great…” Draco’s lips twitched, “and I… suppose living with a dragon is pretty dark.”

Harry blinked before his lips lifted and he laughed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello reader!!! :)  
> Welcome to another chapter!! I hope you like this one, I really enjoyed writing this one up, though most of the work was done by my co-author on this one. If you have anything to say, just drop a comment down below and I usually get back quick. I'm still struggling from what happened with my sister but I'm really grateful for the comments I got last time supporting me. You guys are so patient and I'm really thankful...
> 
> Leave kudos and comments as usual <3


	17. Agnes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco meets his new lawyer, Agnes...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello reader!!! :)  
> It's been so long since I've updated, I'm terribly sorry, but here it is, chapter 17.  
> I hope you guys enjoy, I made it very fluffy. Thanks for all the continued support I've been getting from you guys, I really appreciate it. The writing's kinda bad in this one, but that's because I rushed it. I didn't wanna deprive you guys anymore since I was already running late and something's better than nothing, right?
> 
> Leave kudos and comments as usual <3

Harry bit his nails out of frustration. He was nervously waiting for Draco to finish his interview with Agnes, their new layer. Agnes was a forty-six year old lady who had worked in magical law for the majority of her career. She was a humble, sweet and plump old lady who always had big rosy cheeks and a fire on her tongue. She was the perfect combination of what they both needed; she was the best. It had taken Harry a while to filter through all of the lawyers available, and she was the only one who seemed suitable, however that didn’t mean Draco would take to her.

The frightened look on Draco’s face when she had first arrived at Grimmauld Place had Harry just as scared.

“C’mon Draco, she’s going to be here with us for a while now, you may as well get used to her,” Harry had told him, rubbing his arm encouragingly. The blonde had walked in the room clearly unwillingly, hands and legs stiff with uncertainty and distrust.

 _Baby steps_ , Harry thought, _Baby steps…_

It had been approximately thirty-eight minutes, and the raven-haired man was almost tearing his jetty locks out, impatience brewing in his gut. What if Draco was upset? What if he felt trapped? He couldn’t let that happen, that woman could possibly be hurting his feelings or threatening him. Harry edged closer to the door, debating with himself on whether or not he should open it and just check on him. _He’s probably just fine, I’m being ridiculous…_

He paced for a few seconds, feet feeling heavy on the floor. Hesitantly, he pressed his ear to it and strained for any sound. He heard some quiet talking, though he couldn’t decipher any particular words. He listened for a bit longer, getting his wand out ready, when he finally caught wind of the conversation.

“-Or I’ll kill you myself-” he heard the woman say.

Bright emerald eyes widened in panic and anger and Harry kicked the door open, causing Draco to scream in panic and cower from his position on the sofa. Agnes was sat on the chair opposite him and shot around in confusion and alarm.

“Mr Potter? Whatever are you-”

“Harm Draco and I’ll hang you from my roof by your knickers!” Harry interrupted her dangerously, eyes gleaming and wand pointing at her. The room was silent for a bit and Harry looked at them both to see that they were staring back at him amusingly. After a second, Draco snorted before bursting out into loud, free and colourful laughter, Agnes joining in with him soon after, her jolly face creasing and turning red .

Harry burrowed his brow in bewilderment, lips mouthing, _what_?

But he completely forgot about what had happened, because Draco was laughing. He was _laughing_. Carefree and happy, an expression he had never seen on the blonde’s face before; pale eyes lit up and wrinkled, the most adorable smile Harry had ever seen was right there on display in front of him.

It was beautiful.

Harry found himself laughing too, the sound being too contagious. He hadn’t laughed in so long, and it felt so good.

“Well, Mr Potter,” Agnes began saying, calming herself down, “That wasn’t really my intention, but thanks for the warning.”

She winked at him, before wiping the tears that had gathered in her eyes.

Harry flushed, “I’m so confused right now, you said that you’d-”

“She was repeating what _Marcus_ had said to _me_.” Draco informed him, a sweet smirk playing at his lips.

 _Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhh_ …

It took him a moment to realise.

 

“Right,” Agnes said whilst standing and dusting her skirt, “It was lovely meeting you Draco and hearing your story. There are a few gaps, but we’ll get things sorted, I promise. I’ll get going now, goodbye!” she concluded joyously, grinning widely at them both and walking out of the room and toward the fireplace.

“Bye.” Draco replied bashfully just before the door slammed shut, making him flinch slightly.

His attention turned to Harry who was still trying to keep a smile off of his face.

“So I take it that went well then, eh?” he asked casually, taking the space next to the blonde who was blushing and looking away shyly.

“Um, yeah.”

 

“I’m er, I’m sorry about that by the way, I was just-”

“You were just eavesdropping,” Draco interrupted matter-of-factly, smirking at Harry playfully, who in turn flushed and looked away.

“Yeah, I’m sorry if it seems creepy or anything, I’m just- I’m just looking out for you…” he explained timidly, suddenly losing all of his confidence. Viridescent orbs fell into his lap.

Harry gasped inaudibly as he felt a unmistakably gentle pressure in his hand, it being another hand. Draco’s hand, which was small, fine and warm.

“Thank you.” he murmured softly, smiling at Harry sweetly. Said man curled his fingers around Draco’s and caressed them slowly with his thumb.

“That’s okay.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello reader!!! :)  
> It's been so long since I've updated, I'm terribly sorry, but here it is, chapter 17.  
> I hope you guys enjoy, I made it very fluffy. Thanks for all the continued support I've been getting from you guys, I really appreciate it. The writing's kinda bad in this one, but that's because I rushed it. I didn't wanna deprive you guys anymore since I was already running late and something's better than nothing, right?
> 
> Leave kudos and comments as usual <3


	18. The Hearing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's the day of the hearing...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello reader!!! :)  
> Wow I'd never thought we'd get to this point honestly XD. So this chapter is most likely to be a bit patchy and have a few plot-holes or mistakes and things like that in so if there's anything amiss be sure to let me know. This was a very challenging chapter to write and my co-author did a good job so shout-out to her, don't forget to check her works out, they're amazing. So yeah it's been a fortnight I think since I've uploaded and you guys are probably getting impatient but here it is, I hope you enjoy it. This fanfiction is coming to an end. There are only about 1-3 chapters left, depending on how we decide to finish it but I'd love to hear some feedback down below about what you enjoyed most about the story, what you didn't like, any improvements I can make and just anything you want to say really.
> 
> Leave kudos and comments as usual <3

Draco thought he was prepared for this, but he doubted that anything could prepare him for this, not even Harry’s warm hand in his own. Marcus looked just as terrifying as he had the last time he'd seen him. Agnes stood between him and Draco, watching him before looking at the defense wizard. Today was the day, today was the day that justice and peace would be brought to his life and wash his soul in a new colour. Pulses pulsed fast and eyes looked hard.

 

A shrewd adversary, one whom even Draco recognized as someone once employed by the Malfoy fortune. Harry squeezed his hand again.

  
  


_ I'm here. You’re not alone. _

  
  


Draco let out a breath and nodded lifelessly. Marcus leered at him, a knowing smirk dragging hot fingers across his skin. He knew every dip and scratch of Draco, every imperfection and smooth patch more intimately than anyone Draco had ever known. This was going to be the most difficult battle he had ever faced in his lifetime.

 

And it all made him sick. Marcus made him ill.

 

When the trial began, Draco heard just about nothing. His mind spinning, remembering horrible nights. How desperate and broke he'd been, how easy it would have been to just  _ end  _ it. Leave Marcus by death or by choice but he hadn't. 

 

“Today we are gathered here for the hearing of alleged Mr Marcus Flint who has been accused of several crimes involving rape, sexual assault, domestic violence. Sufficient enough evidence has been supplied by the Auror forces and Ms Agnes Dean that the victim, Draco Lucius Abraxas Malfoy, has in fact suffered the defendant’s wrath and Mr Adam Silith is here today to argue Flint’s case. And Ms Agnes Dean and Mr Blaise Zabini are here in favour of Mr Malfoy. May the hearing proceed…”

  
  


“The defense would question if the plaintiff truly suffered at all. Per Mr. Flint’s testimony, Mr. _ Malfoy _ , a former Death Eater--”

 

“Objection,” Agnes said boldly, her voice a relief and comfort to Draco’s racing heart. “Mr. Malfoy’s past has no relevance to this case. The Defence is clearly attempting to color the victim’s story.”

“Obstained,” the judge granted, the gavel slammed down. Agnes had saved him there.

 

“By all means then,  _ Malfoy  _ heir, Slytherin, a talented wizard at that. There is no logical reason why my client should suffer years in Azkaban for giving Mr. Malfoy what he so clearly wanted.”

 

Agnes gritted her teeth, glaring at the sleazy wizard. She hated lawyers like that; greedy low-life for nothing scum whose only purpose was to continue to let bad happen just so they got a pretty penny at the end of the day. The system was maddening.

“He had ample opportunity to leave Mr. Flint's residence, return to the Malfoy Manor or go anywhere that wasn't there, defend himself. The point is that Mr. Malfoy isn't a  _ victim _ , but a willing participant unhappy with the way things turned out.”

 

Draco swallowed. He remembered.

He closed his eyes.

 

The one time that he'd been  _ honest _ about his curiosity, honest about his self-loathing. He'd only wanted some sort of absolution, just the once. But Marcus had enjoyed it far more than Draco had intended him to, far more than he did. He felt no absolution at the end. He felt no freedom, only pain and betrayal.

 

_ Feeling guilty about your name getting you out of Azkaban, eh? _

Draco shook his head, his stomach roiling.

 

“The prosecution would like to call Mr. Blaise Zabini to the stand.”

Draco flinched and looked up as the dark man strode up to the stand. He looked worlds different than the last time they'd seen one another.

Merlin, how long had that been. He seemed relaxed, taller,  _ stronger _ somehow as if he'd shrugged off the burden of his mother’s reputation and his own insecurities at last. Draco smiled a little. He looked good all dark skin and cunning eyes. Those eyes found Draco and paused. For a moment, it feels like they're kids again.

 

_ We'll always be friends, Drake. _

_ I'm here for you, Drake. _

_ Don't say that, Drake. _

_ Merlin, Drake, what did he do to you? _

 

“How long have you known the defendant?”

 

“Since we were children, about four or five.”

 

“Were you aware that the defendant was seeing Mr. Flint?”

“Yes.”

 

“Did he ever discuss the nature of their relationship?”

“No,” Blaise said.

 

“When was the last time you spoke to Mr. Malfoy?”

“Perhaps a few months after the war.”

 

“Any particular reason why?”

 

Blaise shook his head, “No. Draco simply...stopped talking.”

 

Draco flinched. It sounded worse out loud.

 

“When you say stop talking, do you mean specifically to you?”

 

“I mean literally.” Blaise said. “Draco has a habit of speaking too much when he's nervous. He can be a chatterbox, given half the chance. After the war though, it was as if he'd lost his voice.”

People around the room tittered at this, looking at each other in deep thought.

“Was there anything else peculiar you noticed?”

 

“He moved out of the Manor. I only know this because Narcissa wrote to me to ask after his whereabouts.”

 

“What is peculiar about that?”

 

“Draco was a lot of things, but among them was very proud. Besmirched name or not, he isn't the type to walk away from everything he's ever known without reason. Beside having little to no survival skills.”

 

Agnes smiled as Draco flushed glaring at Blaise who only flashed him a grin. 

 

“Aside from that, he's the only heir. No matter what he'd done, Lucius would never kick him out. He's too proud to hand down the Malfoy estate to anyone else.”

 

“You know this?”

 

“Pureblood wards, set since the beginning of the line, dictate that only a Malfoy of blood can inherit it. Lucius has pulled many scares over the years to disown Draco to keep him  _ in line _ , a typical pureblood parenting technique, but it never worked and Draco never left. It was odd even more so that Narcissa didn't know where he went.”

 

Agnes nodded, “Given the time frame you're speaking of, it is clear that Mr. Malfoy left the Malfoy Manor and moved in with Mr. Flint. Would you say that was in character?”

 

“Of course not,” Blaise snorted. “Draco doesn't like to share space, normally, and there were at least five other estates he could have gone, beyond my own.”

 

“Thank you,” Agnes said. “I have no further questions for now.”

“Mr. Zabini,” the defense lawyer began, loud and obnoxious, slimy as if his words would ingratiate him with the Zabini family on simple merit alone.

 

“How long have you known about Mr. Malfoy’s preferences?”

Blaise’s eyebrow drifted up, “Are you speaking of tea, bourbon,  _ clothes?” _

 

“In lovers,” he said. 

 

“Since we entered Hogwarts.”

 

“And his preference for pain?”

 

Agnes stood up but Blaise laughed, “Draco? Pain? He's had an aversion to every type of pain known to man since we were children.”

 

“You said yourself that he  _ changed _ after the war.”

“I highly doubt that someone’s nervous system’s wiring changes as a result of trauma.”

 

He frowned, “And how would you know that?”

 

“Other than growing up with him? I was there when the Healer’s diagnosed him. He blacked out when we were kids from falling. He took potions for it for years until Lucius decided that it made him  _ weak.” _

 

Harry looked at Draco, who stared at Blaise. It was unbelievable that Blaise remembered all of that. Their eyes met and Draco felt exactly how  _ much _ Blaise remembered from their childhood. How quickly Draco fell in line for fear of being stuck again. How long after the blow the pain remained. He shuddered remembering the day Hermione had punched him, how his face had hurt for weeks like it had imprinted itself into his nervous system.

 

Clearly not expecting the turn of questioning, the lawyer change his direction of questioning, attempting to get Blaise to say something that he could use, but Blaise’s testimony remained the same. Agnes stood to ask her final questions.

 

“Did you know Mr. Flint before he and Mr. Malfoy began their relationship?”

Blaise’s lips twitched, “As well as most people in Slytherin.”

“When you were in school, was there a time that Mr. Flint treated Mr. Malfoy different than other members of the Slytherin team?”

 

Blaise tilted his head, “Marcus was harsh on the entire team, especially after losses, but his relationship with Draco was… different. Mostly because Lucius was basically paying the team.”

 

“Paying the team?” Agnes asked. “Could you explain what you mean?”

 

“Draco is a good seeker, but Slytherins are ruled by two things:winning and profit. Marcus accepted Draco onto the team only made him the main Seeker after Lucius bought the team new brooms.”

“You’re saying that their relationship started with Draco’s tie to the Malfoy fortune.”

 

“I'm saying it's likely.”

 

The entire room broke out into loud discussion, despite the many attempts to quieten the volume. Pale grey eyes locked with deep black ones and Draco could see little pieces of Flint’s facade crumble down. 

The blonde didn’t know how to feel. Marcus had been using him for money this whole time? Now that he thought about it, it made sense, and although Draco could say he was over Marcus, a string snapped in his heart at the realisation. It made perfect sense…

_ I’m unlovable… Not even a monster like him could settle for me... _

 

Did this mean Harry wanted money from him too? There was no real reason for Harry to be nice to him, and if he didn’t want sexual favours…

 

A silent tear rolled down his face and he grew numb and cold. He didn’t want to be in this world anymore.

 

Suddenly a warm and gentle thumb caressed his cheek softly and he was pulled into an angelic embrace, basked in all of Harry as he broke down into sobs, sweet words of sympathy being whispered into his ear. Normally Draco didn’t like that kind of pity, but in this situation he was too dead on the inside to care.

 

_ I’m here. I’m here. I’m here… _

 

It took a couple more minutes for the room to go silent again and for Draco to recollect his emotions. Though his eyes were red rimmed and sore, his knees and heart felt stronger.

 

“May I just say,” Marcus’ defence said, raising his hand out in front of him, “this piece of information changes nothing, Malfoy is still a slimy little death eater who wanted what he got-”

 

“Objection!” Agnes screamed, “the defence is once again being biased about Mr Malfoy’s past.”

 

“Okay!” the judge shouted loudly, clearly getting irritated and hammering down his gavel, “I don’t need to hear any more of this, I am putting my foot down, Mr Flint will walk away not guilty this very day!” Draco’s heart raced and throbbed uncomfortably, the world falling down around him, “Unless,” he said pointedly, “a solid piece of evidence is given that Mr Malfoy was non-consenting to all of their activities during their relationship.”

 

The room once again broke out into loud chatter, making Draco feel very small and scared, despite Harry’s comforting presence. 

“Your honour!” Agnes exclaimed loudly above all of the noise, “This is ridiculous, do you hear yourself?!”

 

“Silence Agnes!”

 

A pin dropped to the floor.

 

“Unless anyone is to stand forward and present any evidence, Mr Flint will be leaving this court not guilty!”   

Nobody spoke, and the grin on Marcus’ face grew wider and wider. Draco was actually shaking at this point, his life was over.  _ I’ll never be free... _

 

The judge slammed the gavel down, and Marcus stood up, looking ready to leave, a huge smile on his face, he shook hands with his lawyer.

 

“As of today, I declare Mr. Flint-”

  
  


“Wait! Your honour!” Harry interrupted, causing Draco to look at him in shock.

“Your honour,” the defense said convincingly, “this man has not been invited to speak!-”

 

“Sit DOWN!” the judge bellowed grumpily, reminding Harry of Snape, “The both of you!” he stared hard at Marcus and his lawyer who both slowly took their seats once more.

 

“Mr. Harry James Potter,” he said slowly at a much lower volume, “it has been a while since I’ve seen you. What is it you have to say?”

“Before when the defence had said Draco was free to leave at any time and free himself, I have proof that this is not true.” Harry declared boldly. Everyone in the room tittered, wondering what he would come out with.

“Really now? And what would that be?”

 

“Shortly after Flint had been locked away, me and Draco had become friends and I invited him to stay with me as he had no means of fending for himself. He began living with me and he was quickly showing signs of past abuse and domestic trauma; he’d clean obsessively, make my meals, flinch from any kind of interaction, and struggled with eating because of his malnourishment.”

The judge nodded intently. Marcus looked very uncomfortable and scowled at Draco when they made eye contact.

“After a small while, my partner Ron had given me Draco’s wand, claiming he had found it at the crime scene locked away in a trapped chest device. When I tried to reintroduce him to it, my thoughts were honestly that a two-year old wizard could have done a better job using it,” Draco flushed, “ he then told me that ‘he’, meaning Marcus, had taken advantage of the fact he was defenseless. A wizard, after all, is useless without his wand. This is all backed up by what Zabini was saying.” Harry explained carefully. Marcus was growing more annoyed and angry by the minute.

“Mr Flint,” the judge addressed him directly, “did you, or did you not take Mr Malfoy’s wand and keep it from him? If so, tell the court your reasoning…”

Marcus visibly panicked and gulped, the veritasium working it’s magic, “Yes...But I only did it because he was being a little bitch. He told me he was going to leave, so I put the cock-sucker in his place!”

You could see the man freak out at himself for letting what he said out into the open. It made the whole room gasp and speculate. Agnes and Harry looked disgusted for a moment until they realised what would then happen. 

Draco just blinked.  _ Did this mean Marcus was going to get locked away?  _

“That’s all I needed to hear to put you in azkaban prison, Mr Flint.” a slick smile spreading across the judge’s face.

“What? No!” he protested.

“Objection! What about the Malfoy seniors? He could have left at any time to go and live with them!” the defence argued resiliently, trying to bring his voice above the rest of the chatter in the room.

“If I may, your honour,” Harry spoke, immediately getting the attention of everyone in the room, “Draco only had that option if he was to marry the Greengrass heir and forever live in misery with somebody he did not love, compared to someone who he,  _ regrettably _ ,” Harry looked at Marcus pointedly, “had feelings for. If everyone else in the room were in the same position, they would have done the same.”

This time nobody spoke, but several people murmured and nodded at Harry’s piece. The judge observed everyone’s reactions from around the room and came to a decision.

 

“As I said, that’s all I need to hear. As of today, I declare the defendant, Marcus Flint,  _ guilty  _ for accused crimes of rape, assault, sexual assault, domestic violence, against Mr Draco Lucius Malfoy. You are hereby sentenced to a lifetime in Azkaban prison. Case closed.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello reader!!! :)  
> Wow I'd never thought we'd get to this point honestly XD. So this chapter is most likely to be a bit patchy and have a few plot-holes or mistakes and things like that in so if there's anything amiss be sure to let me know. This was a very challenging chapter to write and my co-author did a good job so shout-out to her, don't forget to check her works out, they're amazing. So yeah it's been a fortnight I think since I've uploaded and you guys are probably getting impatient but here it is, I hope you enjoy it. This fanfiction is coming to an end. There are only about 1-3 chapters left, depending on how we decide to finish it but I'd love to hear some feedback down below about what you enjoyed most about the story, what you didn't like, any improvements I can make and just anything you want to say really.
> 
> Leave kudos and comments as usual <3


	19. My Hero

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The final chapter to My Hero...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello reader!!! :)  
> Welcome to the 19th and final chapter of My Hero!  
> I never thought I'd get here, and it's quite emotional and overwhelming haha. I hope you enjoy this chapter, it might not be very good but at least this ending is better than no ending and me just abandoning the fic. A huge thanks to Badluckvixen13 who without her help this would have never gotten finished and wouldn't be up to the standard that it is and I cannot stress how talented she is I've left a link to her page, you should totally go and check her out. As the author, I don't interpret the writing as the reader does so it'd be very helpful to me if you could leave a comment down below and tell me about what you liked, what you didn't like, what needs improving, so I can get this fic to the best quality it can be. Anything you want to say at all just let me know down below.  
> I'd like to give thanks to all of the users who commented and gave me support, your comments are all appreciated and helpful and I love you guys so much, don't gotta tell you twice.  
> I hope you like the fic and enjoyed it in general, don't be afraid to share it with anyone, your friends/family etc...
> 
> If you are interested in more content, the following chapters are shorts based on random points in the My Hero timeline, but this is the final ending of the story chronologically.
> 
> Leave kudos and comments as usual <3  
> ~Inkzy

_ It was only a year ago… Grey eyes flashed shut. _

“Draco, honey. I’m home.” A voice drawled as the front door slammed.

A year ago and he was trapped like an animal, in the clutches of a monster… He could remember the feeling clear as day and crisp as new bedsheets. Everything was alive then, the hair on his skin, his mind, his eyes and ears. Everything was in tune, like he was a creature of prey, in escape of the hunter within his home.

All common sense just seemed to leave him as strained and sensitive ears hounded the closeness and proximity of heavy footsteps and breathing. If things weren’t as Marcus pleased, he’d be getting a pounding tonight, and his neighbours would have to endure more sounds of muffled screaming.

_ Dinner ready? Check. _

_ Table set? Check. _

_ House clean? Check. _

_ Laundry done? Check. _

 

 

“Hey Drake,” Blaise greeted. Draco looked up as Harry moved around to get the box. “Today’s the day, yeah?”

The trial was over and done with, an obstacle that seemed to be non-defeatable a few months ago, and now look at where he was. His heart was safe inside of the homely walls of Grimmauld Place, a house he thought he could never fully adapt to and call his home. He spent all of his days with Harry; tucked under his chin on the sofa, in his big gentle arms in bed, cocooned while he was stood at the oven, Harry’s hand in his while they roamed the garden and read together. Always by his side, always, and nothing at all could separate them or take him away, Marcus was gone.

Draco could still remember the night that Harry told him he loved him. His hands were sweaty and cheeks and chest flushed. Draco had never heard a grown man stutter so much in his life (apart from professor Quirrell in Hogwarts first year) but it was the most endearing and adorable thing he had ever witnessed, and it brought a smile of true sunshine to his face. Draco had been sat in the conservatory reading quietly in the summer sun when Harry had burst into the room, Blaise pushing him inside and wishing him luck before closing the door behind him.

_ “D-Draco,” he had mumbled, visibly gulping and running a hand through his hair, “I just w-wanted to- to tell you something…” _

_ “Yes?” the blonde asked quietly, his first assumption being that Harry had decided to kick him out and make him leave. _

  
  


_ “I…” he said hesitantly. _

_ “Yes?” _

 

_ “I love y-you.” _

Draco had been numb for a couple of seconds, staring blankly at the ground and whole body tensing, sending Harry into a regrettable panic, frantically rushing and taking it back. The blonde held up a finger peacefully, silencing Harry who was hanging on to his every movement. He looked up at said man and smiled, unfolding himself from the chair and rushing into Harry’s body, smiling even wider as he felt those familiar arms encircle him tightly. 

They slowly let go of each other after a long meaningful moment. Draco looked up nervously at Harry before pressing his lips tenderly to the other man’s, finding that he immediately returned the action. It was soft and sweet and everything they needed after a difficult past of harsh treatment. Draco couldn’t even recall one single kiss from Marcus that matched the emotion and tenderness he was receiving at that moment. The whole world had stopped for a moment, and the puzzle was complete.

 

Ever since that day, the two had lived in a perfect harmony in their home. Ron and Hermione came to visit a lot, and much to the delight of Harry, they seemed to get along much better with Draco and had become somewhat friends. Blaise came to see Draco a lot too, something that made Harry secretly jealous, but they were friends nonetheless.

The only thing that posed a problem was Draco’s wand and ability to use magic which is what Blaise and Harry were currently helping him with.

 

“You can do this,” Blaise reminded him encouragingly.

  
  


He nodded, shakily, accepting his embrace and breathing in the smell of Floo Powder and potion fumes. Blaise smelled sweet today, like he’d been brewing love and calming potions. Today was the day and after everything that had happened, something in him was still terrified of it. Harry came back, lifting the box over his head and bringing it in.

Draco licked his lips, watching the ornate box as Harry set it down and opened it in front of him. Blaise squeezed his shoulder. It was as demanding and as scary as before.

“When you’re ready,” Blaise assured. But Draco was convinced that that would be never.

Draco felt his heart hammering. _ What was that sound? His own feet tripping over themselves to search the flat for anything that had been left out. Marcus’s feet walking across the muggle floors. The TV was on twenty-three, the curtains drawn.  _

“Come on, Draco,” Harry coaxed gently. “You can do this.”

Draco swallowed thickly looking at his old wand. The trial was over. No one was as happy about it as he was, but it was over. Blaise gave him a reassuring nod that felt like home and helped the sound of muggle soccer drift into the background. He was in Grimmauld Place, his home, and he was safe... 

 

It had only been a year ago. 

 

_ I’m not ready for this, _ he thought.

 

_ “ _ You can do it, Drake.”

_ I’m here for you, Drake,  _  he heard. Draco flushed and looked away remembering exactly how long he’d spent sobbing in the familiar embrace of Blaise Zabini. Harry had been a tad uncomfortable, maybe jealous too, but he’d let the pureblood into Grimmauld Place and gave him free passage of the floo network to come and visit anytime. It took little time for Blaise to somewhat normalize him, reconnect him with people he’d thought had no longer cared about him, corrected some of his misconceptions, starting with his parents. 

He shuddered remembering the trip to Malfoy Manor. It had been the first time he’d seen it since he’d moved in with Marcus. The halls no longer felt familiar. Narcissa had redecorated, moved things around it seemed. The parlor that held so many ghosts of torture and horror had been turned into a sun room of light and color. 

Lucius had welcomed him with open arms until Draco punched him in the face as hard as he could. Blaise’s eyebrows had gone up, but he couldn’t say that he was surprised by it in the least. Before the man had reacted, Draco snatched his cane from him and snapped it in half, throwing it to the ground. He wished the man a painful, miserable death alone and turned to leave. Narcissa had stammered and while Draco knew that she truly loved him, he didn’t heed anything she said, nor anything that Lucius screamed after him. 

They were all threats that he’d heard before. 

He’d be left penniless. 

No name.

No fortune. 

_ Nothing. _

It was funny that he’d already been  _ nothing _ and found that he could live with that. Whatever deal he and Marcus had struck unbeknownst to them or not, it wouldnn’t work. 

“You alright, Drake?” Blaise asked, drawing him from the reverie. 

He glanced up but nodded quickly and went back to gathering himself. The scent of alcohol was faint in his nose, along with the smell of the Malfoy Manor. His memories, new and old, were swirling.

He took a deep breath, remembering at least one of the coping mechanisms he’d been taught for these flashbacks.  _ Shepherd’s pie _ .  _ Patcholi and expensive silk tapestries just aired in the midday sun. _

He grabbed for Harry’s hand and squeezed tightly, forcing himself to take deep breaths. He couldn’t stop thinking. 

“We’re here, Draco,” Harry said. “ _ You’re  _ here.”

Harry watched Draco’s pale finger skim over the top of the wand, hesitantly, before wrapping his whole hand around it, feeling the material thoroughly. He smiled subtly when nothing happened, not even the customary flicker of lights when wands choose wizards. It was weird but familiar. The stick felt warm in his hand. Not burning, or frigid like times before. An uncanny weight about it that had once felt so light, but not felt heavier than he remembered it. 

_ Move _ ,  his legs said.  _ Move! _

He flexed his thighs, refusing to move, pressing his heels to the floor as he held his wand and opened his eyes to look at Harry. 

Harry, with his skewed glasses, cracked in one eye and his kind green eyes. His hair tousled and messy as always as if Draco hadn’t brushed it this morning. He had, much to Harry’s amusement. 

Marcus...Marcus’s eyes were as dark as shadows and half deranged most days. 

Kreacher had made pasta. What he smells is durum wheat pasta, tomato, basil, onion, and garlic… a favorite whose name he couldn’t remember at the moment. 

Spice…

_ Diavolo, _ his mind supplied. 

Marcus hated pasta, but that had been a year ago. 

“Wingardium Leviosa,” Draco said following the movement through the air as if Snape was teaching him for the first time all over again, doing the exact and precise movements.

The pot of pasta floated up and towards the table, done and ready to be served in the way that Harry preferred: round robin. It settled on the coaster gently and a moment of silence passed before Draco let out an incredulous laugh. It was magic.

 

“Done,” Blaise said, squeezing his hand. “You did well. You’ll be hexing Potter again by the end of the week.”

Draco choked, but laughed, loud and happy as Harry glowered at Blaise.

“Hah, hah, hah,” Harry said. “Very funny.”

 

“I think we should celebrate! I’ll quickly go home and get changed. Kreacher!” the elf appeared reluctantly as always, “We are celebrating tonight, my Draco has done well, get us the best wine in the cellar,” he instructed before jogging out of the room and to the floo in the hallway.

The elf disappeared with a crack, the sound of the floo following afterward.

Draco chuckled quietly.

“What is it?” Harry asked bemusedly.

 

“You looked a little jealous, is all.”

“I’m not!” Harry insisted with a huff, crossing his arms.

 

“You’re such a baby, Harry, and you were totally jealous,” he teased, a playful smirk on his lips.

“And if I was?” he lifted his eyebrow.

Draco softened, “Then I know you really want me,” a small smile graced his lips and he instinctively curled up to Harry’s side. The raven-haired man wrapped his arm around him and pressed an affectionate kiss to the blonde’s temple, who warmed up inside at the feeling.

 

“Of course I do, Draco.”

 

“You’re not just going to get bored of me are you?” the question sounded casual coming from Draco’s mouth, but Harry knew deep down inside he was worried and vulnerable.

“Never, you’re mine, and I’m here to love and protect you for as long as you want to stay.”

 

Draco rolled his eyes and grinned, “My hero,”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello reader!!! :)  
> Welcome to the 19th and final chapter of My Hero!  
> I never thought I'd get here, and it's quite emotional and overwhelming haha. I hope you enjoy this chapter, it might not be very good but at least this ending is better than no ending and me just abandoning the fic. A huge thanks to Badluckvixen13 who without her help this would have never gotten finished and wouldn't be up to the standard that it is and I cannot stress how talented she is I've left a link to her page, you should totally go and check her out. As the author, I don't interpret the writing as the reader does so it'd be very helpful to me if you could leave a comment down below and tell me about what you liked, what you didn't like, what needs improving, so I can get this fic to the best quality it can be. Anything you want to say at all just let me know down below.  
> I'd like to give thanks to all of the users who commented and gave me support, your comments are all appreciated and helpful and I love you guys so much, don't gotta tell you twice.  
> I hope you like the fic and enjoyed it in general, don't be afraid to share it with anyone, your friends/family etc...
> 
> If you are interested in more content, the following chapters are shorts based on random points in the My Hero timeline, but this is the final ending of the story chronologically.
> 
> Leave kudos and comments as usual <3  
> ~Inkzy


	20. The beginning (Hundreds Of Feet High)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I’m twenty four years old, and I have a loving husband who has an okay job, we live in an okay house and I drive an okay car. But still, here I am.
> 
> Hundreds of feet high."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ***IMPORTANT***
> 
> Hello reader!!! :)  
> Welcome to some more My Hero content!!!!  
> So as you probably know, My Hero has ended, but I'm going to add more chapters based on certain points in the timeline so that you can get more juice on Draco's experiences. If you're happy with how the story ended, by all means, read no more, but if you're interested then read on... ;)
> 
> Hundreds of feet high is set in a time of Draco’s life where he makes a very important decision. This is the night before the abuse with Marcus starts and their relationship turns toxic. The writing is based upon some extracts that I wrote when I was in a similar position to Draco in the story. 
> 
> Tags: Suicidal thoughts, Near Death, Draco's POV, Short, Depression, References to Depression, Suicidal Theme  
> If any of these make you uncomfortable, please don't read ahead, you have been warned...
> 
> Criticism is widely accepted, please keep it constructive and friendly please :)  
> Leave kudos and comments as usual   
> ~Inkzy 
> 
> Check out my other works at: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Inkzy/works

****

 

**My Hero: Hundreds Of Feet High**

_Hundreds of feet high is set in a time of Draco’s life where he makes a very important decision. This is the night before the abuse with Marcus starts and their relationship turns toxic. The writing is based upon some extracts that I wrote when I was in a similar position to Draco in the story._

 

A series of tragic events…

Yeah I guess that’s what you could call my life, five other words probably couldn’t do it better if I think about it...

A lot of people say that love brings life and treasure, and I suppose you could say that’s true; when two people love each other very much, they get married to one another and bring a child or maybe two to this world.

That’s the general idea, a pattern a lot of people love to follow, a plan to existence: you get a job, find somebody to love and settle down and accept all of the sunshine and all of the rain that comes to your life. I guess that’s the plan I wanted for me at some point.

To find an okay husband...and have an okay job, to live in an okay house and drive an okay car.

I’m twenty four years old, and I have a loving husband who has an okay job, we live in an okay house and I drive an okay car. But still, here I am.

Hundreds of feet high.

My arms can touch the sky up here. Up here in the wind, in the night.

If I’m crying then I can’t tell, I’m quite numb right now. That’s why I’m on top of this building, so I can feel a little before I plummet to the bottom.

There is shouting from down there, there’s people looking up at me, telling me to get down.

But they don’t know how I feel right now, and thankfully they won’t ever.

Oh I’ll get down all right, I’ll be down in less than a minute; at the bottom and lifeless as I was before my formation.

I’m not really sure how it’s come to this if I’m honest, I was doing just fine a few hours ago, but when you are depressed, the feeling usually comes this way; it hits you out of nowhere, as though you are a deer in headlights, and it drags you into a hole you cannot escape.

At times, when you are strong enough, you can pull yourself out, but most of the time you must wait for a hero.

I’ve been waiting for a hero for quite sometime now, and I’ve officially lost hope. I suppose you could say the one thing I have learnt is that if anybody is going to save you in this life, it’s most likely going to be yourself. This realisation hit me hard, but more importantly, it hit me and I’m glad that I realised there is no point anymore, I don’t have to try.

I don’t have to put myself through anymore of this.

I can put the injured lioness out of her misery, and shoot the spirited beast to the ground where it longs to be.

I am hundreds of feet high in a world where I have been alien and abandoned, and as a disgrace and a general outlier, I have never felt more of a sense of belonging.

I like the thrill of being up here, and I like the wind, I like the fact that my aspirations are just a step away from me.

What would happen if I was just to back off right now? What if I turned around from this and went back to my little home on Millbank Terrace?

Would my husband welcome me with warm arms and a kiss to the head like normal, or would he get angry and ask why it took so long to get back?

I don’t know why I’m so unhappy, my life is perfectly fine after all.

I close my eyes and breathe, I will turn back around and everything will get better.

This will get better.

I know it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I will be making a few more of these, if you have any suggestions or requests please comment down below.  
> Criticism is widely accepted, keep it constructive and friendly please :)  
> Leave kudos and comments as usual   
> ~Inkzy 
> 
> Check out my other works at: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Inkzy/works

**Author's Note:**

> I'm trying something new here, I'm not that much of a good writer and starting a fic like this is really going out of my comfort zone but I had the idea and I like a good challenge. Don't be afraid to leave any criticism/comments - it will only bother me if you are very hostile/rude for no reason. I'm a hobbyist who is writing this for my own enjoyment, and for the enjoyment of others. I know that to start off it won't wow you, but I will constantly go back to improve and correct my mistakes. This is a collaboration with Badluckvixen13, who has been co-authoring with me from about chapter 8 onwards.
> 
> Leave kudos and comments and enjoy! <3  
> \---------------------------------------
> 
> Disclaimer: This is purely fanfiction, I am not making any profit from this, the only thing I own is the plot and ideas.
> 
> IMPORTANT: IF ANY OF THE TAGS TRIGGER YOU, PLEASE DO NOT READ - I'D LIKE FOR EVERYONE TO FEEL SAFE AND COMFORTABLE READING THIS - IF YOU ARE UNDER THE AGE OF 16, VIEWER DISCRETION IS ADVISED.  
> This fic honestly isn't that explicit, but I know how younger audiences can feel affected when reading about these kinds of topics.  
> \-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
> 
> Check out my other works at: http://archiveofourown.org/users/Inkzy/works
> 
> Check out Badluckvixen13's works at: http://archiveofourown.org/users/alteringviews/pseuds/badluckvixen13
> 
> ~Inkzy~


End file.
